


I Want You To

by Arrestzelle



Series: Ich Will AU [2]
Category: Rammstein
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ich Will, BDSM, Begging, Blindfolds, Choking, Cock Slut Richard, Come Swallowing, Creampie, Desk Sex, Dirty Talk, Drunkenness, Edging, Fingerfucking, Hand Jobs, Intimacy, Lingerie, M/M, Making Love, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Restraints, Rimming, Rough Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-02-20 06:36:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13141110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arrestzelle/pseuds/Arrestzelle
Summary: An exploration of smutty scenarios for the Ich Will AU that may or may not have occurred. This is an additional series of pure indulgence.





	1. Benutz Mich

**Author's Note:**

> As stated in the summary, this is an extra series of smutty scenarios for [my Ich Will AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12478600?view_full_work=true), some of which _did_ happen but will remain separated from the original fic for the sake of not congesting it with smut. But some scenarios _did not_ happen in the original fic's canon; they're just scenarios I wanted to have fun with. Keep in mind that some scenarios call for a character's personality to be slightly altered, if only to fulfill the scenario (e.g Christoph; let's face it, he would never do anything sexual with Richard).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A high Richard is dragged home by an irritable Christoph. With a lack of inhibition, Richard boldly asks if he could blow him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title translation: "Use me"
> 
> This chapter did not occur. This is a what-if scenario after Christoph drags Richard home from the club in [chapter 3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12478600/chapters/28510528) of the original fic. (Also: a small warning for rough oral sex!)

Rather than face Till's disapproval if Richard somehow got himself killed on his way home, Christoph decides to accompany the other man on his taxi ride. Richard is not quite coherent enough to be trusted with himself. Christoph takes the passenger seat in the front just so he isn't stuck in the back with him.

He gives the directions to Richard's apartment and casts a glance back towards said man; he's craning his head back into the seat, eyes closed and mouth agape. He seems fine enough. Christoph takes out his phone and dials Till's number to let him know he dragged Richard out of the club.

 

Christoph's frustration and impatience is dangerously nearing the peak as he helps Richard up the outside stairs of the apartment complex—why couldn't this place just install a fucking elevator? Especially considering it houses a helpless, moronic man who simply cannot use his goddamn feet, apparently. Richard is giggling and purposefully bearing his weight against the other man, just to further agitate him. And it's working. Christoph nearly chucks him over the railing to meet his demise, but instead he restrains that incredible urge and tugs him to his apartment door.

“Hurry up and unlock the fucking door,” Christoph snaps, shoving him against it, grasping tight fistfuls of his suit coat. Richard says something incoherent and slurred as he digs his operable hand into his slacks pocket, a stifled motion considering he is currently being pressed against his front door. Christoph lets him go to give him some space.

Eventually, he withdraws his keys and sluggishly attempts to look through them one-handed, but he just ends up dropping them with a clatter. He curses and lurches over to grab it, but instead just knocks his head into the door. Disoriented, Richard stumbles back and begins to collapse, but Christoph is fast enough to hook his arms underneath Richard's and hoist him back up.

“You useless idiot,” Christoph snarls, manhandling him so he's slumped back against the wall. Richard chuckles and pathetically winks at him. Christoph snatches his keys from the floor and begins to try each one—he doesn't trust that Richard will tell him which one is correct, either because he _can't_ or because he wants to be a jackass and mess with him. Luckily he only has seven keys, so he gets the door open soon enough.

Christoph slaps the keys back into Richard's hand and grabs him. Impatiently, he pushes him through the door. Richard stumbles and trips up on his feet; he starts to tip forward, and Christoph lets him go. Richard drops heavily onto his hands and knees, grunting.

“You fuckin' dickhead,” Richard slurs, turning to eye him with a scowl, though he just sways a bit before collapsing on his side. He rolls onto his back, arms sprawled out, while Christoph shuts and locks the door.

“I truly don't care, personally, if you choke on your own vomit,” Christoph muses, stepping up to his laying form as he smooths out his suit coat. He stands over him with a dark glare directed down at his flushed, grinning face. He continues, saying lowly, “But T would be unhappy if you died from such a pathetic reason as that, so I'll take it upon myself to make sure that doesn't happen.”

“Aw, ain't that fuckin' sweet,” Richard mocks, reaching out to smack his gloved hand against Christoph's leg. Debating what to do, Christoph just eyes him coldly as he crosses his arms. Honestly, he's not quite sure _what_ can be done. Maybe he'll just bring Richard to bed and let fate take the situation into its unforgiving hands. He really doesn't care that much if T is upset in result of R's death. He'll get over it. And then maybe he'll assign someone to the team who actually has some use.

Crouching down over him, Christoph reaches out to grasp his tie and jerk his head up. Richard's head lolls a bit, before his glassy eyes fix on him. Christoph curls his lip and says lowly, voice a growl, “Do me a favor and get up.”

“Only if you do _me_ a favor,” Richard muses slowly, a smirk curling at his lips. Christoph furrows his brow. He searches in Richard's hazy green eyes, and then says flatly, “What.”

Swallowing thickly, Richard glances between his cloudy and blue eyes as he says with a hopefulness blooming on his face, “If you let me suck your cock, I'll do whatever you want, C.”

Face twisting with utter, complete confusion and then revolted disgust, Christoph scoffs and releases his tie, letting him drop back against the carpeted floor. Richard looks up at him with wide eyes, his hands raised in front of himself defensively, expecting violence. Which comes, of course. Christoph lifts a foot and plants his sleek dress shoe against his throat. Grimacing, Richard jerks his hands up to grip his foot. Christoph stares down at him with cold eyes, his teeth bared.

“What makes you think I would ever let you do such a thing?” he murmurs lowly, dangerously. With a furrowed brow and panicked eyes, Richard opens his mouth and makes a choked, gurgling sound. His legs weakly kick up, his hands pushing at Christoph's foot. Christoph watches silently for a moment, enjoying his discomfort and struggling, before mercifully withdrawing his foot from his throat. Coughing, Richard weakly props up on an elbow, rubbing at his neck as he glares up at him. He speaks in a sluggish, slurring voice, though it's wound with irritation.

“Because I asked kindly? C'mon, C. P wasn't into it and then... _you_ came in and fucked up my chances with those women. Throw me a fucking bone. I just want to blow you, and then you can leave. You don't have to do shit for me.”

Christoph, staring down at him, comes to realize he does enjoy this perspective. Richard gazing up at him with a faint hopeful look in his eyes, a slightly pained expression on his face, waiting for his approval. And Christoph could contribute more to that discomfort. He could demonstrate just how superior he is to Richard, because somehow, Richard has yet to realize how steep that difference is.

“I don't think you asked kindly,” Christoph muses, gazing down at him with a stony expression, “It was more coercion than a request.”

Glassy eyes widening, Richard looks at him with shock, and then comes a weak, embarrassed glare. Drawing his hand away from his throat, Richard closes it into a fist and rests it in his lap. He looks up at him with a frown, his cheeks hot and brow furrowed. He sighs, glancing away, and then mumbles, “Please let me blow you. Then you won't have to deal with me.”

“ _Look_ at me when you ask such a thing,” Christoph growls with a narrowing of his eyes, “If I am going to do something for you, the least you can do is give me the respect I deserve.”

Teeth grit, Richard fixes his eyes up on Christoph's, his jaw clenching. After a tense pause, with an internal debate to whether this demeaning is worth it, Richard hesitates before he says through clenched teeth, “ _Please_.”

“Good,” Christoph says, voice level and blue eye cold, “I'll allow it. But only right here. On your knees.”

A tense moment of hesitation passes, with Richard scowling up at him, before he silently moves to get into position. Christoph nearly laughs, seeing him struggle to do even that. He wobbles quite a bit, having to catch himself from falling by planting his hand against the floor for balance. How could he think he's sober enough to perform a blowjob? Christoph already knows he won't gain any satisfaction from this, just based on R's state.

Richard eventually balances on his knees, setting his hands on Christoph's thighs as he pans his gaze up to meet his unamused stare. Christoph reaches out to run his long fingers through Richard's stupid gelled locks, which has Richard's eyelids fluttering slightly. It has Christoph internalizing his eye roll. Richard brings his hands in to begin eagerly unbuckling his belt.

“God, C,” Richard breathes, almost desperately yanking open his belt and then his slacks, “You're such a fucking asshole, but you're really fucking sexy too, you know. Sometimes I think about you pinning me on the couch in the office and fucking me into it.”

Training his gaze back up on Christoph's, Richard slips his hand into his slacks to rub at him slowly through his briefs, his fingers hot and confident. Christoph lets out a slight breath. He's surprised by how both his words and his touching has a heat curling in his insides. He clenches his teeth, his blue eye trained down on Richard's flushed, almost submissive face.

“Would you like that?” Richard asks quietly, a slow smirk pulling at his lips as he gropes at him, “Would you enjoy making me your bitch?”

“Isn't that what's happening now?” Christoph remarks lowly, which earns a broad grin from the other man. Richard nods, and then brings his gloved hand up to push his white dress shirt up and out of the way, to expose his belly. Leaning in, Richard mouths sloppily at his pale skin and soft abs, while rubbing at his developing erection. Christoph cringes slightly and pushes his head back with a hand against his forehead, saying firmly, “No kissing.”

Richard nods, looking up at him with a slight pout.

Keeping his shirt pinned up, Richard admires his abs and how his skin is dotted with cute birthmarks. Then he curls his fingers into the waistband of his black briefs and hooks it under his balls. His cock is only slightly hard, though it'll be easy to get him completely stiff. While Richard does have his own confidence, he is also unaware that Christoph isn't sexually active, whether its with another person or by himself, so any stimulation has his body responding easily.

Having himself exposed like this to the one man in the family he does not like very much has Christoph questioning how he could let himself be convinced, though the doubt is immediately discarded when Richard grips his cock and leans in to mouth at the pink head that peeks out from his foreskin. A shiver jolts up Christoph's spine. He grasps a fistful of Richard's black locks, which has the other man moaning softly with pleasure, his lips around the side of his shaft.

Richard's green eyes flick up to train on Christoph's as he mouths up the length of his cock, to suck the head in-between his lips. The visual is incredibly arousing, as is the sensation itself. The heat, the wet texture, the firm sucking—it's a rarity that he experiences such a feeling. Like Richard predicted, Christoph becomes completely hard very quickly. Christoph is shuddering slightly by then, his breaths shorter. Richard smirks as he drags his tongue across the underside, up to the frenulum of the head of his cock. Christoph lets out a weak exhale, his mouth falling open slightly.

“You're so sensitive, C,” Richard muses with a grin, eyes amused and mischievous. Christoph grimaces and tugs at his hair, a silent command for him to shut his mouth. Richard is fine with doing so, by filling it. He takes his cock back into his mouth, head dipping down. With a hand curling around his shaft, he grips it and draws back his foreskin to suck firmly at the head. Christoph grits his teeth, eyes downcast to watch. The wet heat of his mouth is overwhelming, sending electrifying pleasure through his lower half. Christoph is internalizing his noises and withholding his heavy breathing—he doesn't want to give him the satisfaction.

Repeatedly, he runs his fingers through his gelled locks, an encouragement. Richard hums as he begins to slowly jerk him off, while mouthing at the head, before Christoph becomes impatient. He clenches a fistful of his black hair, tight enough to hurt, and says lowly, his voice and breath slightly shaky, “I know you can do better than that.”

Richard looks up at him with glassy green eyes, lust and compliance replacing the irritation Christoph usually sees in them. Keeping fingers curled around the base of his shaft, Richard ducks his head back down to take it into his mouth. Deeper and deeper, until his cock is in his throat and his nose is pressed to his stomach. Christoph's mouth falls open, his chest heaving and cheeks flushed a red. He bites his tongue to repress the noise that threatens to emerge. He watches Richard as he begins to bob his head, cheeks sucked in and lips tight around him.

With one dip of his head, Richard takes him deep into his throat, though much too far; he chokes. He spits up a bit of saliva, back curling. He then draws back, sucking tightly as he pulls off. He wipes at his mouth, and looks up at Christoph with watery eyes.

“Sorry,” he says thickly, “It's hard to do it when I'm this drunk.”

“Let me help,” Christoph says flatly, his expression becoming unamused. He grips Richard's hair with both hands and pulls his head back in. Richard willingly takes his slick cock back into his mouth, silently turned on by the dominant behavior. Christoph thrusts into his hot mouth a few times, letting him become readjusted to it, before curling a hand around the back of his neck and forcefully pushing his cock into his throat with an arch of his hips. Richard sputters around his shaft, his eyes clenching shut.

With a clenched jaw and hard eyes, Christoph watches as he repeatedly shoves his cock down Richard's throat, keeping a firm hand around his neck and head. Richard is grimacing, his lips sloppy with spit and cheeks flushed a dark red. Saliva drips down from his chin and off Christoph's shaft, built up from Richard choking and coughing around him. Hand gripping Christoph's thigh, Richard just takes it, allowing the other man to use him ruthlessly like this. Even if his body responds unpleasantly to the intrusion, only as a natural reflex, his dick is incredibly hard in his pants, straining against its confinements. He feels filthy and degraded, with his mouth being fucked like this with no concern for his comfort—and it's just what he loves.

Mercilessly, Christoph keeps forcing his cock down his throat, watching Richard's face twist with a grimace as he gags, his mouth agape and lips swollen from abuse, his face flushed an unpleasant red, with spit dripping from his open mouth to dirty the floor and his own slacks. Richard's hand squeezes hard at his thigh, nails digging in through the layer of his slacks.

“I'm going to come in your mouth,” Christoph growls, panting heavily, his blue eye narrowed, “And I want you to swallow it all. Do you understand? That is the price for allowing you to do this, you greedy whore.”

Weakly, Richard nods, his watery eyes raising to look up at him. Christoph tightens his hold around the back of his neck and slowly slides his slick cock back into his mouth, until Richard's nose meets his stomach, pressed among the dark hair that sits there. He chokes and sputters, his throat convulsing around his shaft. Christoph lets out a shaky exhale and then begins to rock his hips again, his broad hand clenching around the fistful of Richard's black locks. Richard's back curls as he gags, his face dripping with spit, his eyes squeezed shut. Tears break free from his eyelashes to run down over his red cheeks. Amusement swells in Christoph, seeing him so debauched and humiliated like this—while in the back of his mind, a red flag raises. But he doesn't acknowledge it, considering his orgasm is near, and Richard is willing.

Soon enough, he meets that brink. Christoph gives a couple more shaky thrusts into his mouth, and then stops. Shuddering, he gasps sharply, eyes clenching shut and mouth agape. Surprising him, Richard curls his hand around his thigh and begins to bob his head, lips tight around his cock, cheeks sucked in. Christoph shudders and moans, cracking his eyes open to watch him eagerly take his slick shaft into his mouth again and again. Richard's watery eyes are trained up on him, watching his expression shift with pleasure.

Another moan slips from Christoph as he's swallowed whole by the enveloping, hot waves of euphoria which crash over him. For only a moment, his control is crumbling, caused by the distraction of his pleasure. With his mouth slack and eyes closed, he lets his orgasm consume him. His stomach and chest heaves with his heavy breathing, his entire body shuddering. And then he cracks his eyes open again to watch Richard. With a confident hand gripping his shaft, the other man keeps the head in his mouth to nurse at it, letting his semen flood his mouth. Richard maintains eye contact with him as he slowly pulls at his flushed length, lips secured around the head.

“Enough,” Christoph pants, tugging at his hair. Richard then draws back, sitting back on his heels with his eyes on Christoph's. He runs his hand down over his thigh (purposefully wiping the spit off on his slacks), and then sets his hands down on his own thighs. Christoph straightens himself by tucking his dick back into his briefs and fixing up his pants. Meanwhile, he watches Richard, witnessing him open his mouth and stick out his tongue. His seed is filling his mouth and clinging to his tongue. Now that the haze of lust and arousal is dying, Christoph scowls slightly with disgust. He fixes his shirt as he nods and says, “Go on.”

Richard closes his mouth and swallows it down, staring up at the other man, before he begins to wipe his face off on his sleeve. Christoph lets out a breath, contemplating what to do now. He supposes he could just walk out the door. But upon glancing down, he can tell Richard is pitching quite a noticeable tent.

After Richard finishes cleaning himself up as best as he can manage, he moves to stand. But Christoph puts a stop to that by crouching, reaching out, and gripping his throat to force him down onto his back. Richard, as drunk and high as he is, easily loses his balance and collapses against the carpet, his hand jerking up to reflexively grasp Christoph's wrist.

“Don't say. A fucking word,” Christoph growls lowly, looking down at him with an intense expression, his cloudy and blue eyes narrowed and lip curled. Richard stares up at him with wide eyes. He winces slightly when Christoph clenches his grip around his throat. Bringing his other hand down, Christoph begins to tug at Richard's belt, until he gets it undone. Richard glances down to watch with shock as he unbuttons his slacks and opens them up to reach in.

Averting his gaze, Christoph glances down to watch what he's doing while he keeps the other man pinned and silent. He grips his cock through his underwear and squeezes. Richard's hips arch up eagerly, his stomach and chest heaving. Christoph isn't surprised. He rubs at him with a firm hand, glancing over to see his eyes rolling shut, his teeth grit and face flushed. He looks good with a hand around his throat. Christoph watches his face as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of his underwear to tug it down, just enough for his cock to flip up against his belly.

That has Richard opening his eyes and looking at him with submissiveness, lust, confusion. Christoph spits into his hand and then reaches out to grip his cock. He begins to stroke him firmly, with tight fingers. Richard lets out a choked noise, his brow furrowing and mouth falling open. He raises his hips again, pushing up desperately into his hand, his legs curling up, before sliding back down against the carpet. He fidgets as Christoph continuously pumps his hand on his cock, his stubbly face twisting and hand squeezing around Christoph's wrist.

Christoph's hand is big and hot, gripping him with a firm hold, accompanied by a certain confidence in his touch as he tugs at his flushed shaft. Christoph's cold eyes are trained on him, watching his face contort. Richard continues weakly arching his hips up into his touch. The sounds of Richard's choked, distorted noises, and Christoph's moving hand fills in the silence of Richard's living room. It doesn't take long.

Christoph only has to stroke at his cock for a couple minutes more before Richard jerks against the floor, his entire body locking up, his face twisting with pleasure. A restrained, albeit loud, groan comes from him. Christoph glances over to see his ropes of cum shoot out to dirty his dress shirt in stripes. Richard's entire body shakes. Christoph continues slowly stroking at him, watching his hips twitch and thrust up into his lingering touch. Only when Richard whines from underneath his firm grasp does he release his spent cock.

When he slowly releases Richard's throat, Richard gasps sharply and sucks in a few mouthfuls of air. Meanwhile, Christoph rises, standing over him silently. Richard slaps his hand down against the carpet and cracks his eyes open to look down at himself, saying in a heated, sluggish slur, “Fucking Christ, C. That... Was good.”

He pans his glassy eyes up to Christoph's slender face. Fixing his cuffs, Christoph looks down at him coldly, his face stony. Gazing up at him with lustful green eyes, Richard swallows thickly and says past his panting as he rises up sluggishly onto his elbows, “C, sometime, I want you to fuck me. Because, wow.”

Christoph checks his watch; it's almost two in the morning.

“That won't be happening,” he says flatly, meeting Richard's eyes. Richard's face falls. Rolling his eyes, Christoph turns and strides up to the front door. He yanks it open, steps out into the cool night air, and slams it shut behind himself.

As he strides past the row of doors to reach the staircase, disgust crawls through his skin, his insides ablaze, with his restless hands itching to destroy for distraction.


	2. Bleib Bei Mir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christoph and Till fuck on Christoph's desk in the office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title translation: "Stay with me"
> 
> Another Christmas gift for Layne (and my readers)!! I hope you like this filth! ♡
> 
> This did not occur.

At one in the morning, Christoph sits at his desk in the back office of the strip club. After nearly an hour long phone call with Tägtgren, he reviews the notes he had written down: instructions, times, locations, names, and sums that Tägtgren had given him regarding an upcoming meeting with their drug supplier—a drug supplier they had discovered is also an interloper that provides intel. To who, they don't know. What they do know is that, of course, this means he must be discarded. That's where Christoph falls into place. Additionally, he has to obtain the money and the “product” that will be brought to the meeting, and bring it back to Tägtgren.

Hunched over the notepad with his hands over his head, fingers in his short mohawk, Christoph is silent, wildly shifting through the set up, the execution, the cover-up in his mind, eyes unfocused and brow knit. His handwriting on the paper begins to swim.

A hand gently resting on the center of his back has him flinching, his head jerking up to train his eyes on Till, who stands over him with a tired expression. He squeezes Christoph's shoulder, his other hand gripping his cane. Speaking lowly, he says softly with a knowing look, “Let's go home. It's late, Christoph.”

Searching in Till's eyes, Christoph squares his jaw and nods. His stomach is in knots and his heart is pounding from Till startling him. He lets out shaky breath and rises from his desk with a rattle of the wheels of his chair, and then turns to Till. Till's gaze is trained on him, glancing across his exhausted features with worry on his own. Christoph reaching up with both hands to cup his cheeks, over developing facial hair, has Till pausing.

A slight smile weakly pulls across Till's lips just before they're kissed by the other man. Curling his broad hand around Christoph's side, under his suit coat, Till pulls him closer as he lovingly purses his mouth against his in return. Christoph angles his head to deepen it, with a slow, gentle overlapping of his lips that has a fire igniting inside of himself. The feeling of dread is replaced with something kind.

“Till,” Christoph breaks the kiss to breathe, his exhale brushing across Till's skin, and then surges back in to crush their mouths together again. Surprised, Till furrows his brow and attempts to reciprocate this abrupt escalation into something heated and desperate. He runs his hand around his back underneath his coat, winding an arm around him. Christoph's hands clutch at his face, clinging to him.

Once their passionate kiss has run its course, Christoph breaks away to instead mouth down Till's jaw and neck, his developing facial hair rough against his lips.

“Christoph,” Till says lowly, his hand running up over his back, “What's wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” Christoph says against his neck, sliding his hands under the collar of Till's suit coat, to ease it down his shoulders. With a breathlessness, Christoph murmurs, “I just want you.”

Till lets him remove his suit coat, watching with a frown as he drapes it over the desk. Christoph then reaches up to begin working on his tie. He leans in close to the other man, eyes downcast, fixed on his fingers deftly unraveling his tie.

“Something is troubling you,” Till says softly, pulling back to look into Christoph's blue eye, “You're only desperate when you want a distraction.”

Till notices it when Christoph's jaw tightens, his eye hardening. Silence hangs between them, that fire extinguished into nothingness. With his hands frozen on Till's tie, Christoph just stares at the other man, his face stony. He drops his gaze, to his hands. He silently fixes his tie. Running a hand down over the length of it, across Till's chest, Christoph pans his eyes up to meet his partner's again. He nods slightly. Till feels something ache when he notices the very faint look of sadness that flashes in his eyes, though it's quick to disappear.

“I'm sorry for using you,” Christoph murmurs, his brow furrowing. He's tense in the embrace of Till's arm, and Till can feel it. Christoph eyes are unsure. Silently, Till watches him, until Christoph clears his throat and goes on, saying, "It's... I just have many things on my mind. Touching you and being with you makes me feel... Better. And I enjoy it regardless of my state of mind. So... If you would like to, Till, I want to kiss you."

Following a brief moment of contemplation, Till nods while searching Christoph's face, sliding his hand down his back to settle in the center. He leans in to kiss him on the cheek again, an intimate pressing of his lips that has Christoph closing his eyes. He melts slightly in Till's embrace. He sucks in a breath when those full lips then press against his own. Bringing a hand up, Christoph rests it around the side of his neck, thumb pressing to his ear. He gently kisses him back with purses of his lips, his face heating and chest bubbling with a feeling of anticipation. Till's broad hands cup around his sides underneath his suit coat, a heavy touch with warmth seeping into his skin through the thin layer of his button-up.

It invigorates Christoph. He kisses the other man with more enthusiasm, a deeper overlapping of his lips that Till willingly reciprocates. The intensity of it has a heat blooming within Christoph. The hum of pleasure that comes from him joins the sound of their moving lips, soon followed by the shift of clothing when Till slides his hands under the shoulders of his suit coat to draw it down his arms. Till tosses his coat over the back of his chair, while maintaining the kiss that he deepens by spreading Christoph's willing lips with his tongue.

The kiss becomes open-mouthed and passionate, their lips locked and tongues fleetingly joining. Till doesn't kiss him with an impatient desperation to devour, he only gives him tastes of himself with brief drifts of his tongue that has Christoph yearning for more.

When breathless, Till breaks the kiss to instead bite his bottom lip between his teeth. Christoph watches, eyes lidded and chest heaving, as Till rolls it between his teeth, before crushing their lips together again. Christoph closes his eyes, moaning softly into it. Till works off Christoph's tie, letting it fall to the floor. He grabs two fistfuls of his button-up and then rips it open with a sharp yank of his fists, scattering buttons throughout the office. Christoph makes a noise into this kiss, brow furrowing.

“Till!” Christoph complains in a harsh whisper, pulling back to look at him with displeasure—this must be the dozenth time. He knows Till has a _thing_ for tearing his clothes off of him, but in the end, the hassle to go out and replace it becomes tiring. Till gazes at him with lidded eyes, licking his lips. Christoph stares back at him with a set brow and a slight frown as Till silently runs his broad, calloused hands up over his naked sides, underneath his open shirt. It has Christoph shuddering. Leaning in with a tilted head, Till kisses him briefly on the lips and then murmurs, gazing at him with heated eyes, “I'll buy you another. If you'll let me, I'll dress my pretty boy up in a nice suit.”

“Just so you'll rip it off of me later?” Christoph muses with a flushing face, raising a hand to rest it affectionately on Till's cheek. The grin that spreads over Till's lips has his crow's feet appearing. It has Christoph smiling. Till nods and fleetingly kisses him again, before he murmurs, “And then I'll dress you up again.”

Christoph gives him a pointed look. Chuckling,Till slides his hands around to rest them over Christoph's back, feeling his pale skin under his touch. He presses a soft kiss to his cheek, and then leans over to hook his broad hands under Christoph's thighs, to hoist him up. Christoph clutches him tightly, eyes wide, his entire body locking with tension. He looks at Till with shock as the other man sets him on the desk, knocking down paper and notebooks, as well as a pen holder that goes rolling off the surface and onto the floor, with a loud scatter of pens and pencils.

“Till,” Christoph chides, draping his arms around the bigger man. Till leans in to begin biting at Christoph's shoulder and chest, brushing aside his open shirt to reach certain places. He catches his pale flesh between his teeth again and again, harder and harder each time with more enthusiasm, until he's leaving teeth marks and Christoph is sucking in sharp inhalations of pain. Till bites his soft nipples between his teeth and then mouths at them with an eagerness, his broad hands sliding up over the length of his dotted back. Christoph shudders and watches through lidded eyes as Till repeatedly bites his pretty nipples between his teeth, followed by a gentle sucking that sends sparks of heat through Christoph's body. Till clutches at the other man, stilling his slight jerks whenever he bites down a little too hard on one of his nipples.

When Till is satisfied and draws away to admire them, they're sore and red. Christoph is left panting and alight with fire. Till cupping his hands around his ribcage to rub his thumbs slowly against his tender nipples has Christoph twitching and letting out a slight noise. Till admires his chest and the teeth marks he left behind, as well as the slight redness in some places where he bit down too roughly.

Abruptly, Christoph reaches out to rub his hand over Till's groin, feeling his erection through the layers of his slacks and briefs. He squeezes his fingers around it, which has Till growling and looking at him with an intensity in his green eyes. Christoph searches in his gaze, biting his lip. His cock is heavy and hot in his hand, and it excites him. Wetting his lips with a drift of his tongue, Christoph speaks softly with his blue eye trained on Till's.

“Can you fuck me, T? Right now, on my desk?”

A guttural rumble comes from Till, his blunt nails digging into Christoph's pale skin. He nods, leaning in to crush their lips together with a ferocity. Moaning lowly into the kiss, Christoph willingly returns it. He continues squeezing and rubbing at his hard-on through his slacks as their mouths overlap together, his other arm winding around Till's neck. His cock is big and hot in his hand, and somehow, the separation of fabric heightens that anticipation so much more. Meanwhile, Till pinches his aching nipples between his thumbs and curled forefingers, tugging gently at them and pinching them until Christoph is arching his back and whining into the kiss. He fidgets as Till rubs at them with slow circles of his thumbs, a distraction from the heated kiss.

Through his slacks, Christoph keeps a tight grip on his cock, while Till brings his lips down to his throat, across his flushed chest, to mouth at his sensitive nipples again. The wet heat of his mouth against his sore nipples has Christoph moaning and melting slightly, his hand weakening around Till's shaft. Those full lips descend over his heaving ribcage, before Till suddenly stops and draws back to meet his lidded gaze, his green eyes intense with a burning fire.

“I want to see you squirm with my fingers deep inside of your body,” he says lowly, and then brings his big hand up to gently, slowly grasp Christoph's throat in his hold. With a weak noise, Christoph lets his eyes roll shut. Till's rough fingers _squeeze_ around his neck, drawing a sharp gasp from him, soon to be silenced by his grip. He nods weakly into his hold.

Surprising him, Till releases his throat, through he cups his hand around the side of it. He gently strokes his thumb over the flushed skin as he reaches out to pull open the drawer he knew held the lube. Christoph watches with lidded eyes, while he slides his hand up over Till's front, across the fabric of his button-up shirt.

Deciding he could do without, Christoph brings his other hand in to begin unbuttoning it. Silently agreeing, Till sets aside the lube and begins unbuckling the belt to Christoph's slacks, while Christoph gradually opens up his shirt, exposing his hairy chest and stomach. He eases it off of his arms, letting it fall to the floor.

Stroking his broad hands up from his belly to his chest, Christoph silently appreciates his beautiful body decorated with dark hair and scars. His body hair tickles his fingers as his touch ascends. Meanwhile, Till finishes unbuttoning and unzipping his slacks, which he then begins to yank down, out from under Christoph's ass, along with his briefs. Christoph takes a second to kick off his shoes before he lets Till work it off his legs, though in his haste, Till only bothers getting it off one. Christoph is irritated by this, until Till begins mouthing his way down his chest and stomach, to grip his cock and take it into his mouth. It easily distracts him.

Reflexively jerking, Christoph jostles the desk. Then he moans, his head tipping back briefly, before he lifts it again to watch Till suck at the head with his fist around the shaft. Christoph's thighs begin to tremble on both sides of the other man, his hands in fists against the surface of the desk. He watches with a twisting face as Till begins to work his way down, taking more and more of him into his mouth.

Through the haze of pleasure and beyond his soft moans, Christoph hears the pop of the lube cap. He tenses up when a warm, wet finger rubs against him, before steadily, gently pushing inside of him. Till taking his cock deep into his throat draws him away from the discomfort of it. Christoph's thighs jerk, his knees raising to press into Till's shoulders. He whimpers unintentionally, watching with a grimace as Till holds it, his nose pressing into his heaving belly, mohawk meeting his skin.

Reaching up, Christoph clutches at his shoulder with a hand, nails digging into his skin. He moans as Till begins to bob his head slowly, while easing a second finger inside of him. Christoph had been anticipating it, but even so, when Till turns his wrist and begins to stroke up into his prostate, Christoph jolts like he's been shocked. He lets out a noise, lips twisting into a grimace. Till drawing off of his cock with tight suction has Christoph shivering and moaning quietly.

Standing over the other man, Till looks at him with an intense expression, his brow furrowed. Eyes lidded and submissive, Christoph watches willingly as he reaches out to grip one big hand around his throat again. Till shifts closer, gazing down at him with fiery eyes as he tightens that hold around his neck. It cuts off Christoph's access to oxygen—Christoph lets out a slight choking noise, but then he stifles it, controlling himself and restraining that reflexive, swelling urge to pull away. He looks up at Till with an agape mouth and weak, glassy eyes. Blood rushes up into his face.

Keeping that punishing hold on his throat, Till begins to push his fingers up against that spot inside of him that has him lurching atop the desk again. Christoph's mouth twists into a pained grimace, his eyes rolling shut. His knees dig into Till's sides, an attempt to close his legs. With his heated gaze trained on Christoph's flushing, pleasure-stricken face, Till relentlessly strokes and presses his broad fingers up against his prostate, while _squeezing_ his throat in his ruthless hand. Christoph cries out, a choked, distorted noise that slips past Till's firm hold and his grit teeth.

His entire body is pulsating with heat, his belly exploding with fireworks. He can't breathe. His head is beginning to pound, and his dick is throbbing against his heaving belly, leaking consistently with pre-come as Till continues almost violently curling his fingers up into his prostate. Face twisted and pretty lips agape, Christoph lets out a breathless groan that comes out stifled and choked. His insides are _burning_ with arousal. His mind is pure static, born from the blinding pleasure and lack of oxygen. Nails biting into the wood of the desk underneath him, Christoph lets out a long, weak whimper, his legs jerking against Till while he continuously, forcefully fingers him. Mouth agape and eyes screwed shut, Christoph is rendered completely silent and almost unresponsive to the stimulation, save for the involuntary shaking of his body.

Noticing this, Till releases his grip just enough for Christoph to suck in a sharp breath, his torso heaving, expanding. It has another sense of blinding euphoria rushing over him. The combined sensations and continuous stimulation has Christoph locking up with tension, his face twisting and eyes rolling under closed eyelids. With a scatter of more paper, he collapses back against his elbows as his entire body trembles, his legs squeezing against Till's sides. His cock spurts weak jets of cum against his belly and thigh, his entire body pulsating, quivering, convulsing. Till hums with pleasure as he watches him unravel, his green eyes calm and trained on Christoph's agonized expression.

In a slow back and forth, he fingers him gently, while releasing his throat. Cracking open his eyes, Christoph sucks in deep breaths as he looks up at Till dazedly, face weak. Till faintly smiles at him and brings his hand down to instead curl his fingers around his flushed shaft. He begins to stroke him slowly while moving his fingers.

Face flushed and mouth fallen open, Christoph melts from the warm, slow sensation, until Till's broad hand pulling at his softening cock becomes sensitive and uncomfortable.

“Good boy,” Till murmurs, a low rumble in his throat. With a faint, pleased smile, he watches Christoph's face grimace slightly in discomfort as he continues slowly pumping his hand over his spent shaft. Till then speaks softly, with an intensity in his green eyes, “You look so beautiful, flushed and shaking. Laying haphazardly on your desk, dirtied by your seed.”

“Till,” Christoph whines, looking up at him with pleading eyes as he twists his hips, “Please just fuck me.”

“So eloquent,” Till muses with a grin, which earns a slight embarrassed scowl from the other man, “But since you asked so kindly.”

He removes his fingers as well as his hand, and then undoes his belt with the sound of metal against metal filling the office. Christoph watches with anticipation as Till undoes his slacks. He opens up his pants and hooks his briefs under his balls, letting his thick cock flip up from its confinement. Christoph stares, reaching out to grip it with a broad hand. It's hot to the touch. Panning his gaze up, Christoph meets Till's lustful gaze as he begins to stroke at it slowly.

Till grabs the lube and squeezes an excessive amount into his hand. He replaces Christoph's hand with his own and pumps his hand over his shaft, covering it with the slick substance, before hooking his hands around Christoph's thighs and tugging him closer to the edge of the desk. The manhandling turns Christoph on and has him gasping quietly with widened eyes. Resting back on his elbows, he watches with a racing heart and a heated face as Till grips his cock and rubs it up against him. A shiver shoots up Christoph's spine.

With a firm hand, Till slowly forces it into him, his eyes downcast to watch. Christoph sucks in a breath between clenched teeth, his eyes narrowing and brow knitting. It stings. Till keeps one hand hooked around Christoph's hip, the other steady on his shaft as he eases it deeper inside of him. Clenching his toes, Christoph grimaces and says weakly, “It hurts a little, T.”

“Should I pull out?” Till asks quietly, glancing up to search his face. Christoph takes a few deep breaths and shakes his head.

“No. Keep going.”

Till obliges and continues, stroking his thumb back and forth on his hip. The process of pushing into him seems to take forever, though it lasts only a moment more—Till isn't exactly _small_. Christoph winces slightly as he bottoms out in him, his open belt pressing against him. It feels like his dick is up in his stomach.

Stroking his calloused hands over his sides, Till trains his eyes on his grimacing face. Christoph's mouth falls open when he begins to gradually pull out. Catching his lip between his teeth, he looks up at Till with submissive eyes, his hands in fists by his sides, his chest heaving and torn shirt barely hanging onto his shoulders.

Till loves it when he looks at him like that.

He squeezes Christoph's sides as he pushes back in, slowly. The natural tightness of his body has him putting a little force into it. It grips Till tightly as he tries to pull back out. Jaw clenching, he lets out a shaky exhale. Mouth agape and brow furrowing, Christoph looks down to watch Till gently thrust into his body with gradual back and forths. His expression becomes slightly pained, his hands in fists by his sides.

“God, T, you're so big,” Christoph grits out past his teeth, screwing his eyes shut. It still hurts, but this is a common occurrence when they have sex. He just bears through it, letting Till rock against him slowly, until the motion works through his body's resistance. He lets out a quiet nose of pain whenever Till pushes back in, his legs locked up with tension, his stomach clenched. Though soon enough, Till's shaft glides in and out of him with no lingering discomfort or difficulty. Christoph cracks his eyes open and watches Till fuck him with an agape mouth, his cheeks flushed a red and eyes becoming hazy with lust.

Soon enough, Till becomes enthusiastic and increases the force and pace of his thrusts. He snaps his hips against Christoph, hard enough it jerks both him and the desk. Clutching at Christoph's sides, Till tugs him back into his thrusts, drawing sharp gasps out of the other man. The contents of the desk rattle along with the rocking of the desk, while more paper goes sliding off onto the floor. Christoph's ruined shirt slips from his shoulders to pool around his elbows against the desk.

He looks up at Till with a pleasure-stricken expression on his face, his cloudy and blue eyes lidded. He watches Till's handsome face, seeing his jaw clench while his eyes roam up over Christoph's slender body. Bringing his legs around Till's waist, Christoph squeezes them around him—his slacks slip from around his ankle to meet the floor with a clatter of his belt.

“Oh, Till,” Christoph breathes, earning a glance from those intense green eyes. Till brings a hand up from his side to stroke it up his heaving belly, across soft abs, to his bitten chest. He crawls his fingers up his throat, earning a shuddering exhale from him, and then curls two fingers into his slightly open mouth. Christoph closes his eyes, letting Till hook them around his teeth, his thumb resting against his chin. Christoph presses his tongue to them, keeping his mouth open and willing.

Nails digging into the wood of the desk, Christoph tries to ground himself against the forcefulness of his thrusts. The desk jerks slightly with each connection of their bodies. With a submissiveness in his eyes, Christoph looks up at Till's heated face as he whines around his fingers, the heels of his feet digging into Till's lower back. Till's open belt noisily hits against the desk with each snap of his hips, joining the noise of the shaking desk and Christoph's moaning.

Absentmindedly, Christoph clenches his teeth around Till's fingers, his eyes rolling shut. Till's hand is tightly gripping his hip, hard enough it will surely leave more bruises. He tugs the smaller man into his thrusts, creating such a rough pace that has Christoph crying out, muffled by Till's fingers. He looks up at the other man with dazed eyes, his cheeks flushed a deep red, his drool beginning to slip past his fingers to drip down his chin and neck. Till's cock is striking deep inside of him, ruthless and greedy for that pleasure Christoph had felt only a couple minutes ago. Incredibly sensitive from Till's previous ministrations, Christoph can't help but whine with both discomfort and enjoyment.

“Be good,” Till growls, his brow furrowed and eyes intense, earning an quick, eager nod from Christoph. He slips his fingers from his mouth to grab his throat and push him back against the desk. Christoph's head ends up braced against the back of the sectional, due to its placement in front of the desks. He looks up at Till with a grimace, his hand raising to weakly clutch at his forearm.

If this had been two years ago, Christoph would've been swallowed whole by his obsessive tendency to evaluate all possible escape options—and even now, it lingers somewhere in the shadows of his mind. If this had been two years ago, his entire body would be locked with tension, and panic would drown his senses. The trust he has for the other man entirely envelops all his ingrained unease and distrust. The discomfort of being in this vulnerable position—naked on his back, pinned down by the neck—does prod at him, but it's easily drawn from his mind with all of these distractions of _Till_.

Watching his face now, Christoph can see the way his eyes hungrily roam over his flushed, pliant body. His full lips are slightly agape, his stubbly cheeks tinted a red. His chest is heaving, his hairy belly clenching. Christoph finds no real aggression in his features. Even if he's being held down by a grip around his throat, Christoph is completely spellbound by him. He watches his face twist slightly, his eyes closing and jaw clenching. Christoph strokes his hand up over his arm, his legs tightening around him. Till growls his name and jerks against him a dozen more times, harder and harder than the last, until he stills against him, hips shoved up against him. Christoph grunts when Till's hand squeezes around his throat.

A single tense moment hangs, accompanied by Christoph's panting and Till's deep grunting.

“Christoph,” Till breathes his name again, nearly a low rumble. His other hand grips Christoph's waist, his thumb pressing deeply into his flesh.

And then the moment disappears, replaced by the aftermath of their heavy breathing and joined, sweaty bodies. Panting heavily, Till cracks his eyes open and looks down at Christoph. Silently, he admires the visual of the other man gazing up at him willingly, caught under his hand. His hand is big and powerful around Christoph's throat. Face flushed a slight red, Christoph lays there compliantly with his eyes trained on him, his icy blue eye alert and greedily eating up the sight of his debauched lover.

Releasing the grasp around his throat, Till instead curls that hand around the back of his neck, resting it between his shoulder blades to help him up. Christoph weakly sets his hands on the desk and rises into a seated position. Till brings his arms around him then, holding him close. He turns his head to press a soft kiss to his temple, as he lifts a hand to grab a gentle fistful of his short mohawk. Christoph melts in his embrace, slumping against him with his eyes closing. Raising his slender arms, he wraps them around Till, hands resting over hot skin. He clutches at him tightly.

A full, content feeling floods his entire core. His heart is warm and light in his chest, and it has him smiling against Till's shoulder. Till kisses him on the cheek and brow, and then murmurs lowly, “If I ever get ahead of myself, you're welcome to say so. Or throw me across the room. That works, too.”

Christoph laughing lightly into his shoulder has Till grinning.

“You would _know_ if you went overboard, Till,” Christoph murmurs, “You would end up on the floor as soon as I became overwhelmed.”

“And I would gladly accept that outcome,” Till says wryly, which has Christoph laughing again. Drawing back, Till brings his hands up to cup Christoph's smiling face and leans in to kiss him softly. Happily returning it, Christoph purses his lips against Till's until the other man leans away again, earning his gaze. He watches as Till hooks his hands under his knees, gently unraveling his legs from around him. Eyes downcast, Till pulls out of him. Christoph shudders. He flushes in the face when he feels Till's seed rush out of him.

Till seems to have noticed. He keeps his legs open, watching with a stony, heated face as his semen runs down to pool on the desk. Christoph presses a hand to his face, embarrassed.

With his hands under Christoph's knees, Till then carefully raises his lower half by pressing his knees to his chest. Wide-eyed, Christoph jerks his hands back to brace himself against the sectional, watching as Till leans in to lick it up with flat drags of his tongue, up from his tailbone to his perineum. Christoph clenches his toes and looks at him with shock, his face bearing disbelief. Till maintains eye contact while sweeping his tongue into him, lapping up what he left behind with no hesitance.

“Till!” Christoph gasps sharply, his legs locking up and face flushing with a burning heat. The sensation has him twitching, his brow furrowing and mouth falling open.

Deciding he greatly enjoys doing this to him, Till keeps his legs pinned up as he repeatedly licks into him with curls of his tongue, his intense green eyes trained on Christoph's. Christoph drops his head back against the desk, moaning with his face twisting into a grimace, both of pleasure and discomfort. Considering he had sex only a handful of times before Till, he hadn't particularly experienced this in the past. He's not sure how he feels about it _mentally_ , but his body sure as hell loves it physically.

Blood rushes down into his soft cock, a burst of heat flooding in his belly. He lifts his head to watch Till again, finding he rather likes the image of Till between his legs, eating him out. His mohawk is asking to be grabbed, but Christoph would rather not ruin his gelled hair, either. He watches Till's fiery green eyes as he pushes his wide tongue _into_ him. Despite the sparks of pleasure that shoot through his lower half, that has Christoph wincing and saying quietly with his hands gripping the back of the sectional, “Stop.”

Immediately obliging, Till draws back. He looks at Christoph with concern as he gently lowers his legs, letting them slip down to hook around his forearms.

“What's wrong? Should I have asked?”

Pressing a hand to his face, Christoph silently stews in his embarrassment as he lets out a deep breath. He sags back into the desk, flustered and unsure what to say. He just shakes his head and mumbles from behind his hand, “No. I liked it before...”

He trails off, silenced by his humiliation. Till strokes his hands over his thighs, saying, “Before I went a little too far.”

Christoph says nothing. Till kissing him on the knee has him peeking through his fingers. Till gives him a faint smile, rubbing his thumb back and forth over his thigh.

“I'm sorry. Next time I'll ask.”

Letting out a breath, Christoph nods slightly and then says quietly with the faintest smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, “It's alright. But at this point, I would just like to go home and... _Cuddle_.”

The word rolls off his tongue with a shadowing tone of distaste.

Laughing, Till grins, his crow's feet appearing. It has Christoph staring with a smile of his own, captivated by that look on his partner's face. He wants to capture the visual in a photograph, just like how Till has one of _him_ smiling. It's only fair, right?

Till leans over him, placing a hand against the desk, and kisses him fleetingly on the lips. Drawing back, Till smiles warmly and says softly, searching in his blue eye, “I can bring the car around to the backdoor.”

“You go do that,” Christoph remarks, smiling. Till chuckles and kisses him on the forehead.


	3. Hör Auf Mein Herz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christoph has a nightmare. Till makes it better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title translation: "Listen to my heart"
> 
> This chapter did occur.
> 
> For Layne! ♡

The stiff surface underneath him is black and cold. Darkness licks at his skin from all directions. An uneasy, terrified feeling swells inside of him. His eyes are wide, body rippling with tension, chest heaving with his panicked panting. His curly wisps of downy hair cling to his forehead and the sides of his face with a cold sweat. Whimpers of fear crawl out from clenched teeth. An overwhelming feeling of nausea peaks in his stomach. He watches the darkness curl around him, locking his legs and arms to the surface. A tendril of the blackness hangs high above him, threateningly, with promise.

Only when it plunges into his chest, at his clavicle, does he scream. A shadow emerges from the darkness that surrounds him; a familiar face that always seems to witness his suffering. He is always there, waiting for his torture. A smile is on his face, his hands behind his back.

“No one will ever want you,” he says, voice deep and heavily distorted, surrounding him completely as that sliver of darkness descends from his clavicle, down his sternum, across his belly, to his pelvis—carving him open, revealing the deepest part of him. Black blood seeps out from the gaping maw of his body, dripping endlessly down his sides, to pool underneath his shaking body, to run in rivulets throughout the darkness. Fear visibly seeps out of his chest cavity like thick smoke. Words once spoken curl around him like a snake, said only to ruin and damage.

“Do you think you'll ever be more than this? Do you believe you'll ever mean anything, to anyone? Nothing will ever come easy for you,” the familiar shadow says.

Silently, he steps closer, and closer, until he's looming over him. Reaching out, he rests a cold hand atop his head, over curls of pale brown. Christoph stares up at him with a panicked expression, panting heavily, though somehow, his tongue is motionless—he can't speak. Only when he peers into Christoph's gaping torso does it reach that unbearable point.

 

With a violent jolt of his body, Christoph snaps his eyes open and looks up at the ceiling. Chest heaving, pale skin dotted with a sweat, Christoph lays there motionlessly, his cloudy and blue eyes wide and flicking around the room. He slowly releases the fistfuls he has of the blanket. His knuckles had become stiff—they ache when he unfurls his fingers.

A unsettled, disgusting feeling crawls in his insides. He takes a few deep breaths, eyes slowly closing. He brings his hands up to rub them over his flushed face, letting out a shaky exhale as he does. Then he rolls onto his side, the sheets shifting along with his body. Facing Till's dresser, Christoph stares silently at the pictures displayed on its surface, weakly clutching at the pillow under his head. That anxious feeling doesn't go away. He tries to ignore it.

“Christoph,” he hears a deep voice murmur. Freezing, Christoph hesitates before glancing over his shoulder to see Till facing him, laying on his side, with his green eyes soft, _tired_ , and lips in a frown. Christoph doesn't want him to see the fear on his face, so he looks away again to rest his head back down on the pillow, staring at the wall as he says, “Sorry if I woke you.”

He's given no response. Christoph says nothing, does nothing. He lays there, slightly curled up while gripping one of Till's pillows. The back of a hand gently pressing to his back has him tensing up. Slowly, knuckles brush across pale, overheated skin. Christoph feels something swell in his throat. He swallows hard, teeth clenched.

The covers shift when Till moves closer. A warm, muscular arm draws around him, hand tucking under his side. Christoph relaxes slightly when Till aligns their bodies; he's so warm. The bare skin on skin contact has him melting. His body hair tickles his skin. Closing his eyes, Christoph soaks in the feeling of this embrace. He can feel the tension releasing from his body. Till's exhales brush against the back of his neck.

Without saying anything more, Till just holds him. The festering, choking anxiety that has poisoned his insides ebbs away, replaced with a wholesome warmth that has a weak smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. He brings his hand down from clutching the pillow to rest it over Till's forearm. He strokes it down to hold the back of his wrist. Till kissing his back has Christoph's smile growing, slightly.

A lingering shakiness crawls throughout his body, caused by the disturbance of his dream, but eventually even that disappears. Christoph is left compliant and warm in his arms, light and drifting. Till is motionless behind him, though he keeps his arm around Christoph, his fingers curled against his belly. They lay like that for a long five minutes of pure enjoyment on Christoph's end, his insides light with a sensation he always seems to feel around the other man. Christoph feels like his heart is about to escape from his body, from this filthy, decaying form, into someplace higher that deserves to have this feeling of love and contentment. The leap from self-hatred and fear to total contentment almost has him laughing. That faint smile is clinging to his lips, unmoving, though it softens with surprise when Till begins to kiss his back again, his broad hand flattening gently against Christoph's soft abs.

“I always enjoy waking up with you by my side,” Till murmurs, his deep voice vibrating through Christoph's skin. The weakened smile on Christoph's face strengthens. He strokes his hand up Till's forearm again, ducking his head slightly out of shyness. Mistaking it for a display of his discomfort, Till props up on an elbow and gently eases Christoph onto his back, to search his face.

He's surprised to find him biting his bottom lip to repress a broad smile.

“How dare you hide this smile from me,” Till says jokingly with a grin, his crow's feet appearing. Christoph presses his hands over his face. Till pins him down with the weight of his body, their legs tangling, and gently grasps his wrists to pin his hands to the pillow, exposing his blushing face.

“Till!” Christoph protests with an embarrassed expression, his bashful blue eye trained up on his partner. Till chuckles and leans in to kiss him sweetly over the forehead, the nose, and then the lips. Christoph melts into the bed, humming against his mouth. Till's full lips are soft and gentle against his own, kissing him slowly and lovingly. Christoph's hands become limp against the pillow, kept pinned by the other man. Till moves over him, their bodies becoming tangled and molded together in an embrace of naked skin and enveloping warmth. The covers strain against them, twisting between them as they shift.

While kissing his thin, soft lips, Till runs his calloused hands down his forearms, to instead cup his sides. Christoph brings his arms down to drape one around his shoulders, his other hand descending to rest over Till's chest, fingers among dark hair. He feels his heart under his touch as they kiss. In the back of his thoughts, Christoph distantly wishes his fingers could seep into him and caress it.

With a final purse of his lips against Christoph's, Till instead kisses over his spotted cheek and the side of his face, cupping his hand around the back of his head. Christoph rests his knee against Till's side, leg curled up against him. Eyes closed and lips in a loose smile, Christoph lets the other man lay his lips against his jaw and neck, his loose black locks brushing against his skin. Christoph runs his hand around from his chest to lay it gently against his side, simply holding him while Till murmurs against his skin, “I want you.”

“You can have me,” Christoph replies softly, curling his fingers against Till's side as he tightens his other arm around him, pulling him in close against himself. Till gently grips his short mohawk and pulls back just enough to search his willing expression, meeting his soft blue eye. He leans into kiss him again, tenderly, while he draws his hand down from his mohawk, across his shoulder blades, along the slope of his spine.

The minutes that pass seem far too short, though truly they had been lengthy, which consisted of Till's hands caressing every part of Christoph, while their lips remain together, moving in a passionate kiss that is broken only when Till descends to begin kissing his body. Gathering Christoph's wrists in his hands, Till pins his hands up above his head like they frequently practice, while pressing his lips down his heaving chest. Resting between Christoph's legs, both men feel completely content, laying together with Christoph's legs draped lazily around him.

For a moment, a moment that somehow stretches on longer than the previous ten minutes of embracing and the sharing of lips, Till rests his ear against Christoph's heart, his loose black locks brushing over his skin. Christoph watches with lidded eyes and flushed cheeks, his exhales shuddering. His heavy breathing has his chest heaving up against Till, though Till only clings tighter, enjoying the pounding of his heart.

“Beautiful,” Till murmurs, and then turns his head to kiss him there, peeking up at his awed face as he murmurs, “I like hearing that sound. The sound of your life, fluttering inside of you. The desire, the excitement, the love. I can hear it in your heart, your stuttering breaths. I can see it in the flush in your skin, the roaring of your blood. You are so precious, Christoph. You are invaluable to me. I want to hear your heart eternally beating.”

Christoph looks at him with a softness in his gaze, his expression touched. Till releases his wrists for Christoph to bring his hands down, if only to hold Till's cheeks, his stubble rough against his skin. Planting his hand on the bed, Till raises himself to let the other man kiss him. Christoph kisses him with a passion, his eyes closing, his cheeks flushed, his heart racing ever faster. He clutches at Till, helplessly kissing him with an immense, uncontrollable desire pouring out of him—a desire for Till's _everything_.

“Till,” he breathes against his mouth, and then smashes their lips together again with a fire. Till gently holds his jaw in a broad hand while he returns the firm overlapping of their lips. The kiss becomes messy and desperate, a feverish attempt to somehow become closer, to become intertwined more than they already are. The heated kiss comes to an end when Christoph becomes breathless against his lips. He doesn't let Till draw away; he breaks the connection of their mouths to instead kiss at his cheek and the side of his head with emotion, drawing his arms around him tightly.

“Let me make you feel amazing,” Till murmurs into his ear, and then presses his lips against his temple. Christoph nods, holding him close to himself for a moment longer, and then lets him go. Till presses a fleeting, loving kiss to his mouth, which Christoph happily returns, and then begins to place his lips in a trail down from his chest, to his heaving belly. He holds his thighs in his big hands, squeezing them, feeling the flexing muscle underneath his pale skin as he mouths at his abs and then his hips.

A sharp inhalation comes from Christoph when Till goes down on him, taking his half-hard length into his hot mouth.

 

The sunlight pours across them in stripes, seeping in through Till's bedroom window, which hangs above them and the bed. The visual of these lines of sunlight spilling across Christoph's slender, muscular body is beautiful, and if he had a camera, Till would capture this image forever. Instead, he consumes the sight, planting the seed of this memory inside of his mind. He'll never forget seeing Christoph like this, laying on his side, legs curled, eyes lidded, his cheeks red and chest heaving, with the sunlight decorating his pale flesh, dotted with beads of sweat.

Till, laying behind him, remains propped up on an elbow, gazing down at him fondly, his loose black locks falling into his eyes. He has a strong arm wrapped around Christoph's midsection, holding him intimately against his chest. With his back against Till's chest, Christoph's hand is on his thigh, gripping him, feeling his heat, feeling the muscle within shifting when he moves his body.

Leaning in over the smaller man, Till bears some of his weight against him, pinning him down as he begins to kiss at his cheek and the side of his head. Once satisfied with covering his neck and jaw with his lips, he draws back to see a contented smile on Christoph's face, his eyes closed. Only when Till stops kissing his skin does he turn his head to look up at him, his eyes cracking open, revealing white and striking blue. A warm adoration is in his gaze, directed up at Till.

Watching his beautiful face with lidded eyes, Till continues rocking against him with a stronger force, his hand clutching at his flat chest. Christoph's eyes close again, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He digs his blunt fingernails into Till's thigh. Till leans in to begin kissing his flushed cheek and his jaw as he gently rolls his hips against him, tightening his arm around him. Christoph moans lowly and melts under his heavy weight, his broad hand stroking over his thigh.

Rather than gripping Christoph's chest, Till brings his hand down to run it up the length of one of his thighs, to curl his hand under his knee. He gently eases his leg up, and then hooks his arm around it under his knee, hand stroking up his thigh. Christoph willingly lets him move his body however he wishes, looking up at him with a submissiveness in his eyes.

Shifting slightly, Till adjusts them both so Christoph is laying partially on his back, though his lower half remains angled to properly accommodate Till. With his hand squeezing at the tense muscle of Christoph's thigh, Till begins to rock against him again—connecting their lower halves with firm rolls of his hips, driving his cock harder and deeper into the other man, though at a pace that is still slow. A breathless moan comes from the smaller man, his eyes rolling shut, head dropping back into the pillows.

“Touch yourself for me,” Till murmurs with a lust, and then presses a kiss to his forehead. Christoph brings his hand in from Till's side to almost bashfully grasp himself, opening his eyes again to look up at Till. Till leans in to kiss him. A soft hum comes from Christoph, vibrating between their lips. They kiss lazily and lovingly, while Christoph touches himself languidly, in tandem with Till's rocking motion.

With a lowering of his other hand, Christoph reaches between his open thighs to gently cup Till's heavy balls in his palm, squeezing slightly as he continues thrusting into him. It has Till faltering, his lips stilling amongst the kiss. Pulling back, he looks into Christoph's eyes, and then notices the sly smile curling at his mouth. Christoph continues holding him there, almost affectionately, as Till moves. It easily spurs him on.

“Christoph,” Till growls deeply, clutching at him tightly as he begins to thrust his hips against him with more force, hard enough it has Christoph jerking slightly with each connection of their bodies. Lips remaining in that faint smile, Christoph hums with blatant enjoyment, squeezing his hand gently around his balls as he watches his rugged face twist subtly in pleasure; his brow furrows, his jaw clenches, his teeth gritting and green eyes intensifying with lust. Till leans forward to press his forehead against the side of Christoph's.

With an angling of his head, Christoph messily presses their mouths together—readjusting himself to better accommodate it, Till begins to return it passionately. Keeping Christoph's leg hooked over his arm, Till brings his hand down from his thigh to instead rest it against his chest, over his heart. With his heightened lust dying down, he lessens the snapping of his hips into something slower and gentler. Christoph moans softly into the kiss. The change in pace is appreciated and has a heat bursting in his belly. His arousal is encouraged by Till stroking his hand down over his heaving belly, to replace Christoph's hand with his own.

Kissing the other man weakly, Christoph becomes distracted. Till's broad, hot hand pumping slowly over his flushed length has him shuddering and moaning again. With a parting purse of his lips against Till's, he collapses back into the pillows, eyes closed. His hands rest limply amongst the sheets, before he raises one to begin stroking it up over Till's shifting forearm.

Gazing up at the other man with hazy, lidded eyes, Christoph lets the soft moans that swell in his throat emerge from within himself—he wants Till to know how good he's making him feel. Till's eyes are downcast, watching himself touch his lover, watching the bead of pre-come build at the slit of his cock, before it drops down onto the sheets. Watching his foreskin repeatedly envelop the pink head with each upwards stroke of his hand, drawing out more clear droplets of his arousal. Watching the way Christoph's lean thighs clench up, how his chest heaves, how his hand grips a fistful of the sheets underneath them. Till pans his gaze up along his beautiful, pale body to meet his lustful blue eye.

Brought to the brink, Christoph then squeezes his eyes shut, his mouth falling open. Till stares, silently enjoying the pleasured expression on his face. Though feeling his shaft throb in his grip has him glancing down, to see his ropes of ejaculation shooting out from the flushed head to sully his big fingers and Christoph's hip. Till hums with approval, while Christoph moans, head craning back into the pillows. Till continues gently rocking against him, while he strokes slowly at his dripping cock.

“Oh, God, Till,” Christoph whispers breathlessly as he comes back down, his body trembling, his hand releasing the white-knuckled fistful of the sheets. Till kisses him lovingly on the temple as he slows his thrusting to a stop, their lower halves connected. Christoph breathes heavily, cracking his eyes open to meet Till's gaze. Leaning in, Till kisses him fleetingly, which has the other man raising a hand to cup his cheek. Their lips purse together tenderly a few times, before Till pulls away to search in his blue eye again.

“Keep going,” Christoph murmurs. Unfurling his arm from around Christoph's leg, he instead brings his hand up to gently clutch Christoph's. He kisses him tenderly against the palm and then his knuckles, before threading their fingers together. Searching in his eye, Till asks lowly, “Can you lay on your back for me?”

Christoph nods, smiling faintly. Till kisses him on the back of the hand and then rises, to give him some room. Christoph gets comfortable against the pillows. Once beckoned, Till rejoins him, situating himself between his willingly open legs. He runs his calloused hands up over the back of his thighs, to hook them under his knees. Melting back into the pillows, Christoph lets him pin his legs up.

Boldly reaching down, Christoph grips Till's slick cock and angles it against himself. Till begins to gradually push in, eyes downcast to watch his shaft sink into his partner's body. Christoph sucks in a breath, his eyes wide and mouth falling open slightly from the sensation of Till's thick cock spreading him open again, slowly easing back inside of him, deeply. Christoph's legs jerk involuntarily in his hold, his body trembling uncontrollably—as if he had just been shocked. It earns a slightly concerned glance from Till.

“Sensitive,” Christoph says with an embarrassed look on his flushed face. Till nods, his tense expression softening, and then leans in to plant a brief, loving kiss to his lips. He lets Christoph's legs slip down to hook over his elbows, as he places his hands on the bed for stability. Christoph reaches down to rest his hands over Till's thighs, squeezing slightly to encourage. Carefully watching the other man's face for any signs of discomfort, Till begins to rock his hips against him, a gradual, smooth roll that has Christoph moaning softly.

Looking up at Till with lust in his striking cloudy and icy blue eyes, Christoph strokes his hands over his thighs as he slowly pumps his hips against him. With sweat on his brow, his black hair haphazard and mouth slightly open, Till gazes down at him, watching his beautiful face as he continues making love to him. Christoph drifting his tongue between his pretty thin lips has Till leaning in to crush their mouths together again. Humming softly into it, Christoph runs his broad hands up Till's sides.

This position makes each thrust stronger and deeper. Christoph moans against his lips with every connection of their bodies, his insides curling with a burning heat despite the orgasm he just had. Till is powerful and heavy on top of him, surrounding him completely. He clings to his broader body by wrapping his arms around him with his nails sinking in, his chest heaving, his lips becoming unresponsive against Till's. He would curl his legs around him, if not for Till keeping them pinned up, hooked over his arms.

Breaking the kiss considering Christoph's unresponsiveness, Till leans back to watch as he drives his cock into his body. It's arousing, seeing himself rock his hips against the other man like this. Witnessing Christoph take his shaft so easily, so willingly. With lust, with a desire for it, with a craving for _more_. Christoph cranes his head back into the pillows and lets out a soft, breathless moan, a lovely sound that has Till's burning insides intensify even more with that heat.

With his jaw clenching, he squeezes handfuls of Christoph's quivering thighs. Till looks up towards Christoph's grimacing face as he asks gruffly, voice rough with his upcoming orgasm, “Inside?”

Opening his eyes, Christoph looks at him with a dazed expression. Biting his bottom lip between his teeth, he nods. He runs his hands across Till's shifting back, nails gently dragging over his scarred skin as he murmurs with lidded eyes, “Yes. In me. Please.”

Nodding, Till then leans back, kneeling back on his heels as he clutches Christoph's slender thighs in his hands. He watches himself thrust into his body, his mouth falling open and chest heaving.

Christoph reaching down to gently cup his tightened balls in a broad hand has Till groaning and snapping his hips against him with more force. Christoph moans, watching with an agape mouth as Till jerks against him, harder and harder each time, until the thrusting of his hips becomes shaky and uncontrolled. Slowing, Till moans deeply in his throat while clenching his hands around Christoph's thighs.

Watching Till's face contort with pleasure, Christoph gently squeezes his fingers around his balls, feeling them draw up tightly as an indication of his orgasm. Grunting, Till's fingers dig into his thighs, clutching him tightly as he weakly rolls his hips against him a few more times. His hairy chest is heaving, his belly clenched and brow knit. And then he opens his dilated green eyes, his exhales shuddering.

Till looks down at him with hazy eyes, his full lips fallen open and cheeks flushed a red. Watching Christoph's awed face, he begins to rock his hips again, slowly thrusting into him to draw out that lingering pleasure. Christoph bites his lip, admiring his body gracefully move as he languidly thrusts into him a few more times. Till hums lowly, a vibrating moan that sends a shiver down Christoph's spine. He watches Till with warm, subtle lust in his blue eye.

Releasing his thighs, Till instead cups a hand around his ankle and leans in to press a firm kiss to it. Christoph smiles.

And then Till pulls out of him, before collapsing beside him on his bed, jostling the entire thing. Christoph immediately begins to get up—he doesn't want to sully his sheets with the semen that begins to flow out of him. But then Till catches his bicep in a grip, stopping him. Christoph glances over with a furrowed brow. Gazing at him with a softer look in his green eyes, Till clears his throat and says lowly, while his other hand brushes back his lopsided black locks, “I don't care if the sheets get dirty. I'll throw them in the wash. Lay with me, love.”

Somehow, he always sensed his concerns. Christoph huffs and then moves back towards him, to lay against his side. He rests his head against his shoulder. Till draws his arm around him, while pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. He brings his hand up to rest his curled finger under Christoph's chin, encouraging him to tip his head back.

Relenting, Christoph obeys and looks up at him with a clarity in his pretty eye. Till smiles warmly at him, eyes lidded and adoring, and then leans in to softly kiss him. Bringing his hand up from Christoph's back, Till gently curls his fingers into his short mohawk, grabbing a loose fistful of it, holding him _still_ as he kisses him. Christoph melts against him, and happily returns the intimate sharing of their lips.

“I love you,” Till murmurs against his mouth, and then breaks the kiss to press his lips to his cheek, saying again quietly with his hand tightening gently in his hair, “I love you very much.”

Christoph runs his hand up from Till's soft belly to rest it over his heart, his chest hair tickling his fingers. He smiles, and then angles his head to fleetingly, lovingly purse his lips against Till's. Opening his eyes, he finds Till looking at him with a warmth.

Despite the overwhelming alien feeling that always rushes over him when they exchange these words, Christoph forces himself to maintain eye contact as he says softly in return, his blue eye becoming weak with tenderness, “I... I love you, too, T.”

 

Intimately, they silently lay together, bathing in the sunlight and in each other's warmth. Till had taken to stroking his fingertips along Christoph's soft abs in a continuous back and forth motion, while Christoph rests his head on his chest, ear over his heart. No words are said; the silence is broken only by the singing of birds, the melody of Till's deep, soothing heartbeat, and the humming of passing cars outside the apartment complex, beyond Till's bedroom window.

Eventually, Christoph breaks the lengthy moment of embrace to sit up. Till watches, eyes lidded and arms suddenly empty, as the other man shifts, situating himself to lay beside Till, but lower than he had been before. This draws back the covers, revealing Till's nude body to the sunlight and Christoph's gaze. Wiping his hand up over his forehead, brushing back his wild locks, Till watches as his partner rests on his side, aligning himself with his legs. Christoph's blue eye flicks up to meet his gaze as he rests his head down on the bed.

A warm touch of Christoph's broad hand meets his calf. Cupped around the muscle, simply holding him. And then it ascends, a slow stroke up along flesh decorated by body hair. Till watches silently, eyes more alert and surprised. Christoph's striking blue eye remains trained entirely on his as he touches delicately at the lining of his sensitive scar that encompasses his right knee. Till tenses up, slightly. Christoph maintains that eye contact as he leans in with a shift of the covers to gingerly press his thin lips to the side of his knee, laid so gently against the white scar tissue that decorates it.

Gaze lowering, Christoph watches himself begin to carefully dance his fingertips along the sharp lines and curves of those gruesome scars, tracing the scars born from his injury and the surgeries that followed—all over a decade old now. Till's leg twitches reflexively, his toes clenching and calf flexing. Christoph smiles faintly, his cool gaze flicking up to meet Till's again. Lovingly, he curls his long fingers underneath Till's ankle. Slowly, he strokes them up in a caress, along the arch of his calf, to cup under his knee.

“I want to bathe you,” Christoph murmurs, staring up into his widened green eyes, and then leans in to lay soft, delicate kisses against the enveloping scar. Till is rendered speechless at first, completely thrown off by the treatment Christoph has given the ugliest part of him, before he swallows down his shock and speaks lowly, saying, “And you can. Would you like to now?”

Christoph presses a final kiss to his quivering knee, and then looks up to meet his gaze again, resting his cheek against his thigh. He nods, smiling faintly.


	4. Konsumiere Mich

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christoph and Till experiment. Christoph gives him complete control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title translation: "Consume me"
> 
> This is an additional gift for Layne! It's really indulgent. I'm not that sorry.
> 
> This didn't occur.

Standing before a mirror, Christoph is kept modest only by his black briefs. Till stands behind him, studying their reflection past his partner's shoulder. He had tied his hair back into a tight bun for the occasion, though a single, thin wisp of hair hadn't quite made it—it rests, curled, against his forehead. Christoph stares at himself through the mirror, his cloudy and blue eyes locked, his slender face bearing no emotion. His short mohawk is damp from the quick shower he had taken beforehand, for this purpose.

Anticipation accompanied by a nervousness blooms inside of him, watching Till raise his hands. With his arms around Christoph, Till slowly brings a [sleek, thick leather collar](https://78.media.tumblr.com/2ddc16025010f59f0d4b2c20310a8b57/tumblr_p26kemFLg41rvajymo1_1280.jpg) to his throat. The double o-rings click together when he adjusts it around his neck, soon to be fastened by a buckle in the back—tight enough that it cannot shift, though not enough to cause discomfort. The leather is soft and pliable against Christoph's skin. The collar is double layered, decorated by spots of silver which secure the two pieces together. The bigger ring rests against the center of Christoph's collarbone.

“Beautiful,” Till murmurs, brushing his blunt fingertips along the fine leather, and then further down to stroke across his shoulder blades, drawing a shudder out of him. Staring at himself, now bearing the collar, Christoph feels like he's looking at someone else. The collar does truly look beautiful on him, when joined by his handsome features and pale skin that contrasts with the harsh black of its color. It's odd every time Till puts it on him; to think that everything has led up to this point. His partner, his captain, putting a collar on him, claiming him as his own; a statement of possession.

“And now,” Till says softly, reaching past Christoph to lift another piece from the low side table beside the body mirror. Like with the collar, Christoph watches him bring it to his mouth. Hesitant for only a moment due to his embarrassment, Christoph meets Till's gaze in the mirror as he opens his mouth, just enough for the other man to carefully slip the bar gag between his teeth. Till watches him closely through the reflection, his green eyes intensifying with a lust. The rings attached to both sides press to his cheeks—they're cold and have a shiver running up his back. Till silently fastens it, tightening it just enough for it to stay in place. Christoph furrows his brow, his cheek flushing.

With the bar between his teeth, his lips are barely able to meet around the width of it. He narrows his eyes at his reflection, humiliated. The image of himself with a gag in his mouth, a thick leather collar around his throat, joined by his near-nakedness is embarrassing. It's _nearly_ too much. They have put him in a collar before, just not the gag. This is an exploration, an exploration he's unsure about. But Till running his broad hands around his waist while resting his chin on his shoulder distracts him.

“What do you think?” Till asks with a sly smile, searching Christoph's flushed face through the mirror. Embarrassed expression weakening to exasperation, Christoph lifts a hand and points at the gag. Till laughs lowly and then turns his head to press a firm kiss against his cheek, before he says in a low murmur into his ear, “I think it's charming. I want to eat you up.”

Flustered, Christoph turns his head away. Till chuckles again and then with a gentle squeeze of his hands on his waist, he says, “Let's put you on the bed, love.”

Christoph nods. Till takes his hand, threading their fingers together. Christoph lets the other man guide him.

The window positioned above the bed bears darkness beyond the panes of glass, considering the hour. The glass is decorated with droplets of rainwater, from the rainfall they had earlier in the day. Briefly anxious, Christoph glances through it as he climbs onto the bed, though he sees nothing, and no one. Turning, he rests his back against the headboard. Drawing his knees up, feet planted on the bed, he looks at Till warily, his cheeks warm.

“Lay on your back for me,” Till murmurs, standing over him, beside the bed. Christoph drops his gaze from Till's as he does as he's told—he maneuvers himself down, until his head meets the pillows. He looks up at the other man with calm, cloudy and blue eyes, his teeth and lips locked around the bit in his mouth. Smiling faintly to himself, Till grabs one of the black cuffs resting up by the pillows, waiting to be made of use. Meeting Christoph's gaze, he holds out a hand.

“Will you let me restrain you again, Christoph?” he asks. They've gone over this, but the additional check for consent is appreciated. Christoph keeps his gaze trained on Till's as he sets his wrist in his open hand. Heart already beginning to hammer, Christoph watches the other man fasten the leather cuff around his wrist—the cuff is already connected to the bedpost by a restraint. Christoph tests the give, while Till steps around the bed to reach his other side.

The give is generous, though he can't reach his hand out too far. Christoph notices that a snap hook is connecting the cuff's o-ring to the restraint, so he could easily twist his wrist and unhook it if he desperately desired to. That relaxes the very faint anxiety that sits in his stomach—regardless, that anxiety doesn't linger during the sex anymore, so he wasn't truly concerned. It only blooms during the restraining process. He glances over to watch Till gently take his other wrist and do the same; he wraps the sleek, black cuff around it with a jingling of the o-ring, before he fastens it by tightening the buckle. The snap hook restraint is already connected, so now that it's taken care of, Till just leans in to press a soft kiss to his wrist before lovingly resting that restrained hand back down among the pillows.

He meets Christoph's collected gaze and asks with slight concern in his eyes, “Everything okay?”

Christoph relaxes back into the pillows and nods. Till smiles and reaches out to stroke at his cheek with a gentle finger. Christoph closes his eyes. Then Till takes a seat on the bed, beside his laying lover. Keeping his gaze trained on his face, Till reaches out to hook his fingers into the waistband of his black briefs. Christoph watches with a furrowed brow and flushing cheeks as Till carefully draws them down, revealing dark curls of hair that sat further down beyond his heaving belly, as well as his half-hard cock that flips up against his hip.

Till silently works the article of clothing off his legs, and then lets it fall to the floor. He strokes his hands back up Christoph's slender legs, earning a slight tremble from him. Smiling, Till watches his face as he teasingly, gently rakes his fingernails up and down his thighs, across pale hair and the occasional scar. Christoph watches with a knit brow, his legs reflexively twitching. His heart pounds away in his chest, his stomach twisting with both embarrassment and anticipation. He looks up into Till's amused green eyes, shifting slightly as the other man continues running his nails against his skin with a feather-like pressure—he's becoming too flustered. Till chuckles and squeezes his muscular thighs in his big hands, before he gets up again with a creak of the bed.

At the foot of the bed, he grabs the cuff that sits there patiently. He brings it to Christoph's ankle. Silently, he fastens it like the others with a clinking of metal against metal, and once he finishes, he runs his warm hand over the bridge of his foot, up to his calf, and then squeezes. Stepping around the foot of the bed, he retrieves the other leather cuff and does the same—he buckles it around his ankle, strokes his hand up along pale skin.

While Christoph watches him, he feels his built saliva begin to seep out past his lips—he tries sucking it back in, though he only creates an embarrassing slurping noise that earns a glance from the other man. Christoph panics for a second, feeling his saliva slip out despite his attempt to restrain it, though he decides he can't do anything about it. A line of his drool runs down his chin. Till had been retrieving the blindfold from the side table during his internal struggle. Taking a seat beside him earns Christoph's gaze.

He watches, face flushing, as Till leans in towards him. With his green eyes lidded and trained on Christoph's, he then gently drifts the tip of his tongue over the rivulet of saliva that had begun to curl under his jaw—Christoph jerks slightly, surprised. Till then presses a fleeting kiss against his bottom lip. The incredible desire to kiss the other man surges in Christoph. He dearly wishes he could. He just clenches his teeth around the bar in his mouth, looking up at Till with wide eyes when he sits back again.

“I'll be watching for any discomfort, considering a safeword is not applicable here,” Till says, stroking his hand up over Christoph's heaving tummy, to rest over his heart, “But if I don't notice, just shake the restraints.”

Christoph searches in his warm eyes and nods. Till gives him a kind smile and then leans in to press a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead. Christoph closes his eyes, melting back into the pillows. When he opens them again, he sees Till sitting back and raising the black cloth to his face. Silently and without protest, Christoph lets him bring it to his eyes, concealing his vision and bathing everything with blackness. Till carefully wraps it around his head and ties it in the back.

Already, Christoph's heart begins to race again. The anxiety that had disappeared makes a return. He clenches his hands into fists. Distraction is harder to achieve when he's left in the dark, accompanied by old visions and repressed memories. They did practice this beforehand, the blindfolding (considering it _is_ a new aspect as well), but this time, Christoph is fully restrained.

Till notices this initial discomfort, of course, and strokes his hands over his clenched forearms to soothe his unease, down across his sides. It works; it has him relaxing slightly.

“I love you, Christoph,” Till murmurs lowly. Christoph pauses, startled by these words spoken so easily and so suddenly. Though they warm his insides all the same. A broad hand cups his cheek—Christoph is barely able to repress his flinch, considering he hadn't anticipated it—and then a warm thumb strokes down across flushed skin.

“I'm going to make you feel wonderful,” Till promises, “But as you and I have discussed, I want to use this as a chance to practice lengthening your... Endurance. But should you ever have enough of it, like I said, just shake the restraints. Above my own desires, your comfort matters most.”

Christoph nods silently. Till strokes at his cheek a moment longer, over pale birthmarks and flushed, pale skin. Then he runs his fingers along his jaw. That touch descends, to sweep across the collar. He traces his collarbone. He drifts a fingertip along his sternum, further and further down, until he reaches his belly button. Christoph's entire body is locked with anticipation and lust, boiling inside of him even if his touching has been so light and fleeting.

Then a second touch joins the first; Till's broad hand cups around his thigh, and squeezes. Christoph's muscles involuntarily clench up. Naturally, Till feels this. He repeatedly squeezes his thigh, massaging his fingers along the tightened muscle until the tension melts away. Meanwhile, his other hand joins—he cups his other thigh in that hand, as well. He squeezes both, and then strokes his hands down to cup the underside of his knees. When he gently rakes his fingernails against the sensitive skin under his knees, Christoph jolts slightly, with a jangling of his collar. Till chuckles, running his broad hands down along the swells of his muscular calves in a long, slow stroke.

The lack of vision heightens the sensation much more than Christoph anticipated. Each touch is like lightning on his skin, shooting underneath his flesh in faint shocks. Till's hot, calloused fingers sweeping back up along his clenched calves to cup under his knees has him shuddering.

Meanwhile, Christoph's drool is thicker and oozing out from between the bar and his bottom lip, sullying his thin lips and his chin—he really tries to suck some back in, but it hardly makes a difference.

Till's warm, full lips suddenly pressing to his thigh surprises him. Christoph attempts to repress his involuntary jerk, but his body is reflexively defensive against any touch he doesn't anticipate. Till laughs softly again, amused by his twitching. Christoph's ears burn. He relaxes then, as Till begins to kiss a trail up over his trembling thigh.

“You are so beautiful,” Till murmurs, nearly a _growl_ due to how deeply and passionately he says this, before he gently bites a mouthful of the flesh of Christoph's thigh between his teeth. Christoph shudders. Till does it again, and again, across the muscle and milky skin. He clutches at his other thigh with a firm hold, his blunt fingernails digging into his skin.

“I meant what I said earlier,” Till says, voice deep and husky. Christoph shivers almost violently—he can feel his hot exhales puffing against his wet skin, damp with his saliva. Till running his tongue up the length of his thigh, to meet his protruding hip bone, has Christoph making a slight noise into the gag. He clenches his hands into fists, his chest heaving and stomach burning with an overwhelming, limitless arousal. Till continues, murmuring into Christoph's warm skin.

“I want to eat you up. I want to open you and see what I find. I want to hold your heart in my hands, I want to take a bite out of it. I want to see it beating, I want to see your lungs inflating, giving you the breath you so dearly need to live.”

Releasing a quiet, flustered noise, Christoph raises his knees as much as the restraints will allow, his feet sliding against the covers. Till presses a soft kiss to his hip, his broad hands cupping around his lover's sides.

“I mean that all romantically,” he muses, “Not quite so literally. I haven't reached that degree of insanity. Yet.”

Distantly, Christoph thinks that he wouldn't mind it if he meant it literally. He would truly give anything to the other man, even his heart. He would give him his life, if he so wished to take it. He lets out a weak noise, his back arching. He wants to convey this, but he _can't_. Till begins to lay these firm, passionate kisses against his heaving tummy as well as his sides, fingers splaying out over his dotted skin. Christoph moans around the gag.

Till continues kissing lovingly at his abs, his belly button, his hips, his thighs. Christoph is fully erect by now, his cock pulsing with heat, laying amongst his curls of hair. Till must have noticed, for he begins to release hot, teasing exhales of breath against his shaft. Christoph lurches, the restraints and the o-rings on his collar jingling from the motion. Till hums with pleasure and rakes his nails down Christoph's sides, leaving raised lines of pale red in his wake as he presses a firm kiss against his cock. Christoph whimpers around the bar.

Rather than take him into his hot mouth like Christoph so dearly wants, he shifts on top of him—Christoph feels the bed shake, hears the springs creak. The bed dips down on both sides of him. Till's broad, heavy body lays partially against his own, pinning him. His chest is against him, his hips between his spread legs—Christoph can feel his hot skin against his own, he can feel his body hair tickling his stomach, his chest. Christoph moans weakly, immensely enjoying the sensation of having the bigger man on top of him, bearing his weight into him, sharing his warmth. And then he feels Till's hand on his head. Christoph sucks in a breath. Like he often does, Till curls his fingers into his short mohawk and clenches a fistful of it. He arches Christoph's head back. Christoph willingly follows with a crane of his head, his eyes wide and fixed on the blinding cloth.

Till's warm, wet tongue presses to his throat, above the collar. Christoph shudders. Slowly, he runs it up along the line of spit that had descended from his lips, to pool at the edge of the collar. Licking it up from underneath his jaw, over his chin, to his bottom lip. Christoph shudders underneath him, his body trembling and chest heaving, heart racing. Till begins to kiss at his wet chin and strong jaw, angling his head to mouth at it with more passion. Christoph melts.

With a careful shift of his body, Till kisses heavily at the exposed skin of his throat, and then lowers himself further to begin mouthing at his flat, heaving chest. He cups his rough hands around his ribcage, feeling it rapidly expand and deflate in his hands as he bites and kisses at his milky skin. Christoph wiggles slightly, releasing a muffled noise that sounds almost needy. He wants to wrap his legs around the other man, but he can only move his legs so far. Till had wanted complete control during this, and Christoph is far beyond willing to give it to him, but he only wants to _show_ Till how much he _wants_ him.

Till's hot lips end up around his soft, puffy nipple, earning a weak jerk from the smaller man. He begins mouthing at it sloppily, soon to secure his lips around it, to suck and then bite. Christoph arches his back and moans, his hands in fists. While he lathers his chest with attention, Till traces each curving bone in his ribcage with blunt fingertips. It nearly has Christoph jerking from the sensitivity. The fleeting, chaste touches along his ribcage, joined by the eager mouth biting at his sensitive nipples, is like a licking fire that accompanies the shocks of lightning—Christoph begins to fidget, overwhelmed by the combination. Arousal roars inside of him.

“Good boy,” Till growls, his lips and teeth moving against his skin. And then he continues kissing messily at his heaving chest. Another muffled noise emerges from Christoph, his knees raising slightly. Till's hot hands slide underneath his curved back, while he catches his sensitive nipple between his teeth. He rolls it between his teeth, earning a choked noise from the other man, before he begins to eagerly kiss down his chest, to his heaving belly.

Another moan melts from within Christoph when Till squeezes firm handfuls of his ass, his hot tongue sweeping into his belly button. And then, shocking the smaller man, Till sticks his nose against the base of his cock, amongst curls of dark hair, and sniffs at him, inhaling his deepest, most intense and natural musk. Christoph whimpers and attempts to twist his hips, but Till has no patience for that. Immediately bringing his hands up from his ass, he pins his hips down and begins to smell him with greater enthusiasm.

“You are so excited, aren't you, my love?” Till murmurs, a low guttural accusation that brushes against Christoph's balls and thighs in warm exhales. Christoph whines and attempts to close his thighs—the restraints don't allow it. Till continues, saying in a deep, gravelly voice, “I can smell it on you. You want me to suck your beautiful cock, don't you?”

Panting around the bar in his mouth, Christoph nods shakily while arching his hips up, into Till's face. Chuckling, Till immediately puts a stop to that by pressing his hands down against Christoph's hips, a little firmer this time.

“So desperate,” Till breathes, “You want it so badly.”

“Mmh!” Christoph vocalizes in a muffled cry, while he pushes his hips up against Till's hands. He shakes in his restraints, his hands in fists and head craning back into the pillows. He's never felt like this before in his life. This level of pure desire and desperation has never grasped him before. He's yearned and _yearned_ for Till in the past, but not so _raw_ and purely _sexual_ like this. In the past, he's controlled himself. He could restrain his desires into something muted and concealed. But now, he wants to beg and cry his name, he wants to plead for him to touch him, to make him feel like he's not of this world. The lack of control he has must have stripped away those layers of preservation and pride. He can barely take it.

“Good boy,” Till praises, and it has Christoph moaning weakly. Till goes on in a rumbling whisper, “I like it when you show me how much you want it. Show me again, and maybe I will do what you want, love.”

Embarrassment licks at him from all sides, but Christoph's uncontrollable desire overrules his reluctance. He clutches tight fistfuls of the pillows with his restrained hands and arches his body, into Till's hands. He lets out another noise around the gag and jerks his legs against the restraints, noisily jangling the hooks and rings connected to the cuffs. Till hums and pins his body back down, to begin mouthing at his hip and thigh. Christoph whines loudly and jerks his hips again, which earns a soft laugh from his lover.

“Good, you are so good,” Till murmurs against his skin. Christoph melts slightly, hearing this warm praise. Hot, soft lips suddenly pressing open-mouthed against his balls has him rippling with tension again. Till begins to lick at him there, curling his wide tongue around them before sucking them into his mouth. Christoph cries out around the gag, his body locking up and slender thighs clenching. A punch of electric arousal bursts in his gut. He truly thinks hes about to come purely from Till sucking his balls, his nose pressing against the base of his cock, but then Till draws away again before it could become a reality, letting his balls pop out of his mouth, one at a time.

Panting heavily, Christoph slumps back against the bed, his legs shaking and hands limp on the pillows. He whines weakly. Till's warm, wide fingers curling around his balls and gripping them in his hand earns another moan from Christoph. He rubs at them with his thumb, while he murmurs in a voice thick with lust, “I want to turn you over and lick into you, until you cry and come onto the sheets. But that will have to wait for another time.”

Christoph shudders, his hands squeezing into fists again. He lets out a weak noise. Till stops rubbing at his balls and instead runs his big hands over his quivering thighs. He squeezes them, groping them firmly in his hands.

“When I suck your pretty cock,” Till murmurs, stroking his hands up to cup his hips, “I'm not going to let you come.”

Softly moaning around the bit, Christoph sluggishly nods. Till squeezes his hips. Anticipation burns inside of Christoph. He whimpers when Till's warm exhales brush over his aching shaft again. And then broad fingers curl slowly around the base, to arch his cock up. Christoph begins to shudder, his breaths coming out short and excited. Without even teasing him, Till presses his full lips to the dripping head of his cock and then slowly sucks it into his mouth.

“Ngh! Mmh!” Christoph cries as he jerks his body, muffled against the gag, his legs clenched and trembling. His thoughts deteriorate to pure static, reduced to nothing by the hot, wet sensation that gradually descends over his shaft, until Till has taken half of his flushed cock into his mouth. Christoph moans lowly around the bar, his eyes fluttering shut behind the blindfold, his face burning and toes curling. Till's other hand is between his thighs, fingers resting over his balls while his thumb slips underneath them to press firmly to his taint, against the concentration of nerves there. Christoph jerks and whimpers.

Agonizingly slow, but _so_ satisfying all the same, Till begins to move his head back and forth, repeatedly sucking his cock deep into the wet warmth of his mouth. Christoph's body begins to jerk and twitch, his moans reduced to silence as his orgasm rushes up _fast_ —he hadn't realized just how close he had been, and the suddenness makes him dizzy. Till recognizes this unresponsiveness and immediately draws off. Christoph sags against the bed, the tension draining from him as he pants loudly around the bar. He groans weakly.

Replacing Till's mouth is his hand. He pumps him slowly, until Christoph's body winds up with tension once again. Belly clenching, he releases a few soft noises around the gag, his brow furrowed and teeth grit. Till is silent between his legs, simply watching him as he touches his slick shaft, the wet noises of his stroking joined by Christoph's panting.

Soon, that apex rears up. It only took a minute, and already Christoph feels like he's about to burst from inside out. He cranes his head back into the pillows and moans aloud, his tongue pressing against the bit, his teeth locked around it, back arching and thighs shaking uncontrollably. Without a word, Till lets his cock go. Christoph slumps back against the bed and whines, a complaint this time.

Soft lips press to his thigh.

“You're a good boy,” Till murmurs, and then suddenly he's rising from the bed with a creak. Christoph stills, his chest heaving and stomach clenched. He bites absentmindedly at the bar, his lips slick with saliva. He tilts his head towards the sound of Till stepping around the bed, followed by the sound of him lifting something from the side table. And then there is a pop of a cap. The lubricant.

Till climbing back onto the bed and between his legs relaxes him. His broad body presses snug against his own. It's comforting. Christoph almost feels like purring. Till strokes one hand up his side while squeezing a line of lube along his angry red shaft. Christoph sucks in a sharp breath. Till sets aside the bottle of lube and curls his fingers around his cock again. He pulls at it in long strokes, while laying kiss after kiss against Christoph's thigh and hip, the spot of facial hair on his chin brushing against his pale skin. Christoph moans softly, his body thrumming from the warm pleasure.

Before it could build up, Till releases his cock and runs his wet fingers down, to cup his balls again. He rubs at them briefly, earning a fidget from Christoph, and then turns his wrist to slip two fingers underneath. Christoph lets out a slight noise when Till rubs at him, and then gently eases one slick finger inside. Shifting on top of him, Till adjusts himself so he can press his warm lips to Christoph's heaving belly while fingering him.

Christoph shivers, feeling his stubble rub against his skin as he mouths across his abs and tummy, over pale skin decorated by sweat and birthmarks. The feeling of his soft, loving lips kissing at his body has him relaxing. His heavy breathing slows, his jittery stomach calming. Meanwhile, Till slowly, gently moves his finger back and forth, until Christoph's tension is completely gone. And then he begins to ease in his middle finger, careful and slow with the generous aid of the plentiful lube.

Moaning weakly, Christoph repeatedly clenches and reopens his hands against the pillows, eager and impatient for more. He enjoys the sensation of having a part of Till inside of him, purely because he wants _Till_ , but he also yearns for Till to _make love_ to him, beyond just the fingering and touching. He shifts on the bed restlessly as Till continues moving his two fingers. Turning his face into his bicep with his brow furrowing, Christoph fidgets his hips, his heels digging into the covers. He lets out a slight noise into the bar.

“Patience, Christoph,” Till murmurs, against the flushed skin of his heaving tummy. Obediently, Christoph stops fidgeting. He lays silently, compliantly, his inhales and exhales heavy, skin dotted with beads of sweat born purely from his racing heart and restlessness. As he lays there, with his body and expression relaxed, Till presses a kiss to his thigh. Christoph hums weakly, a pleased noise. Till does it again, across the width of his slender thigh, while fingering him at almost an infuriatingly slow pace.

When Till grabs the lube and opens it with an audible snap of the lid, Christoph pauses, waiting. Those two broad fingers slide out of him, though after only a moment, they're pushing back in, deeply, to the last knuckle. Christoph moans. With a noisy jangling of the restraints connected to his ankle cuffs, he spreads his legs further apart. He can feel the additional warm lubricant on his fingers, especially when he begins to rub his ring finger against him. Till manages to ease it in amongst his other two with some patient, careful rubbing and pushing. It has Christoph releasing a slight noise, muffled by the soaked gag in his mouth.

Digging the heels of his feet into the bed, Christoph attempts to push his body down further on his fingers. Till cups his other hand around Christoph's balls to pin them up against his sensitive cock—to gain a better view of his work. It's such a simple touch, but it excites Christoph regardless. It encourages him; he attempts to wiggle down against his fingers, though Till stops moving his fingers as soon as he realizes Christoph is trying to fuck himself down on them. He moans around the gag, a wordless plea. Once he stills, Till continues.

He grunts when Till pushes his three fingers in deeply—his fingers are not small by any means. He begins to thrust them into his body, hard enough that it satiates Christoph's desire for more. He moans into the gag, arching his back with pleasure.

When Till begins to press them up towards his belly, applying firm pressure to his prostate, Christoph jolts with a noisy shift of his restraints, his body clenching up again. Till releases his balls to instead grip his leaking cock. He begins to pump his hand around his flushed shaft with a firm grasp, while he continues roughly pushing his fingers up against that spot inside of him that has him jerking and crying out. Christoph squeezes his hands into fists and cranes his head back, his stomach clenching and toes curling. He moans around the bit between his teeth, his hips shaking uncontrollably as fireworks of pleasure explode in his belly. His insides are on _fire_ with hot, intensifying arousal, and it's only building and building as Till continues stroking at his cock with a tight, squeezing hand, slick with warm lube. He can feel it, he can feel it, he can _feel_ it, it's coming, _finally_ —he's going to let him _come_.

Only when he goes absolutely silent, his body shaking and involuntarily twitching, does Till stop entirely. He yanks his hand away from his cock, his fingers stilling inside of him. Christoph jerks his knees inwards, shocked. His mind had been wiped blank, his body coiled up like a spring, anticipating that orgasm. But it doesn't come; he feels that rising feeling dying down. Till grips him around the base of his balls and cock in a tight ring of his forefinger and thumb. Christoph whines loudly and impatiently shakes his hips. He was so _fucking_ close!

“Good boy,” Till murmurs thickly, and then begins to slowly thrusts his fingers back and forth inside of him again. Christoph melts a little into the covers, still frustrated and fidgety, but that nice sensation relaxes him. He can wait, he can wait. Till will make him feel good, in time. Till kissing over his hip and belly calms him. He lets out a weak noise.

He hears the pop of the lube cap again. Warm lube is squeezed onto his balls, to seep down against Till's fingers. Till uses the additional lubrication to rub his pinky against him—it has Christoph sucking in a breath and releasing a startled noise. Till has never fingered him with all four before.

When he slowly, carefully forces it in, it stings. But it doesn't hurt. Christoph pants heavily around the bit. Saliva is thick on his lips and chin. It itches where the blindfold rests against the bridge of his nose. But, above these discomforts, he is distracted by what Till is doing to him, and what Till _isn't_ doing to him. His patience is thinning and his restlessness is rising, but all he can do is whine around the gag and accept Till's broad fingers into his body.

As Till gently moves his fingers back and forth inside him, his body gradually relaxes, allowing the fourth addition. Christoph feels so full, and his lower half is alive with buzzing pleasure, with an ache, with a fire. He shifts weakly, letting out a slight noise. Till's warm lips are against his skin again, his facial hair tickling him. Christoph tries to relax, but his body won't release the tension, nor will it cease its trembling.

Back arching, Christoph lets out another weak noise. Till nips at the pale skin of his hip and thigh, catching it between his teeth again and again, until he wordlessly apologizes by kissing at the reddening skin. Meanwhile, he keeps pumping his four fingers inside of him, his thumb resting over his tightened balls.

Abruptly, Christoph feels him gently grip the base of his cock to angle it up. With a firm stroke down, Till draws back his foreskin and reveals the pink head, dripping generously with glistening droplets of pre-come. Immediately following is a hot, slick mouth, sucking the sensitive, leaking head in-between his full lips, to taste his sweet pre-come. Christoph jerks underneath him, his chest heaving and stomach sucking in. He cries out loudly around the bar, his eyes clenching shut underneath the blindfold, his teeth grit. Blood rushes up into his face, and down into his belly.

Till doesn't hesitate. With his free hand gripping around the base of his balls and cock, performing as a cock ring, he begins to bob his head with sucked in cheeks. He roughly shoves his fingers into Christoph's body, to the last knuckle every time. Christoph jerks his head back into the pillows with a jingling of his collar, his hands in shaking fists, his knees rising and ankles pulling at the cuffs. He lets out muffled cries, anguished and _desperate._ His entire body thrums and pulses with electric pleasure, his limbs locked and shaking.

Again, it comes. He can feel his entire core winding up, rising and rising, intensifying with this indescribable heat, this incredible explosive waiting to go off inside of him. Blood is hot in his face, burning throughout his belly, in his shaft. Face twisted in agony, teeth grit around the bar, he can feel his orgasm rushing up. His cock _throbs_ inside of Till's amazing mouth, his balls drawing up tight. Static fills his mind. Despite his attempts to restrain it, a choked cry rips from his throat, filling the room, joined by the sound of Till blowing him. Only then does Till pull off immediately, his fingers stilling inside of him. That roaring fire diminishes into a pulsating heat, once again.

Weak and exhausted, and beyond frustrated, Christoph slumps back against the bed limply, his knees curled in as far as they are able to. He pants heavily, eyes closed and face red. Till lets his abused cock rest against his belly.

Before he could continue, Christoph whimpers and clenches his hands into fists. He deliberately jerks against the binds with a noisy clanging of the snap hooks against the o-rings. Till removes his fingers from inside of him and shifts with a dip of the mattress. Christoph feels fingers on the back of his head, unbuckling the bar. Once it's undone, Till removes the gag—strings of spit connect Christoph's red lips to the bit, before they break to instead cling to his soaked chin.

“Are you alright?” Till asks with concern, setting aside the bar gag to instead cup Christoph's flushed cheeks in his hands. And then he reaches up to slide the blindfold off, granting him his vision again. Christoph blinks heavily, dazedly, and has to adjust to the fact he can now see the other man. Till gazes at him with worry. He's still wearing his underwear, but glancing down, Christoph can see he is definitely hard.

“Fuck me,” Christoph says hoarsely, rolling his sluggish eyes up to gaze into Till's. Heart hammering, he licks his lips, feeling excitement flicker inside of him. He wants him so badly, he can barely handle it. Panting still, he closes his eyes and turns his head, pressing his face into Till's warm, calloused hand as he goes on, murmuring, “Please fuck me, Till. I want you. _Please._ I'll do whatever you want. I just want you, I—I just—“

“Okay,” Till says, shushing him gently as he scoots closer to him with a creak of the bed, sliding his hands around from his cheeks to cradle the back of his head. Christoph looks up at him with dazed eyes. Till leaning in to kiss him firmly on the brow has him becoming limp again, his eyes rolling shut as a slight whine rises out of his throat.

Till angles his head to crush their lips together. Christoph moans and attempts to lift his hands from where they lay restrained against the bed, but all he manages is a noisy jingle of the cuffs. Till kisses him with a hunger, a heavy overlapping of his lips with intent to consume. Christoph is in no state to properly kiss him back—aside from being soaked with his spit, and now _Till's,_ his lips are weak from being wrapped around that gag for so long. He can only manage a slight pursing of his mouth against his partner's.

“You are being so good for me,” Till breaks the kiss to murmur, his exhales warm and brushing against Christoph's lips. Christoph nods weakly into his hands, shuddering. Till continues holding his head in his hands, while he presses his full lips against Christoph's wet chin and across his flushed, dotted cheeks. It feels incredibly good—more than any physical sensation Christoph has felt tonight. Till's lips are loving and tender, kissing over his flushed face so intimately. Christoph melts, just utterly compliant and limp in Till's hold.

“Please,” Christoph whimpers, his eyelids fluttering as Till continues mouthing at his jaw and neck. Till nods against him, stroking his thumbs over the sides of his head.

Another, final kiss is pressed to his unresponsive lips, and then Till gently lowers his head back down against the pillows. Christoph watches through lidded eyes as the other man turns to unlatch the restraints from the cuffs fastened around his ankles. And then he lovingly strokes his hands up along the length of his calves and thighs, earning a shudder from Christoph. Till's intense green eyes flick up to meet his; Christoph feels so hypnotized.

Somehow, now that he had been deprived of the privilege for so long, Christoph enjoys the mere sight of Till so much more. His broad, muscular body, his tan skin, his handsome face, his confident, strong hands, his beautiful emerald irises. Christoph smiles weakly, just gazing into his eyes. Till notices that faint smile, and smiles himself. Planting a hand against the bed, he leans in to press a soft kiss to his brow. Christoph lets out a quiet noise, eyes closing. Such a simple gesture soothes him so greatly.

Till sitting back again and grabbing a pillow from the abundance earns his weak gaze. Till tucks that pillow under his hips with a gentle raising of his lower half. And then he momentarily rises from the bed. It nearly earns a noise of complaint from Christoph, but soon after stripping off his briefs, he climbs back on. Christoph bites his bottom lip, staring at his hard cock that arches up with need. With a careful adjustment of Christoph's body, Till gets situated between his spread legs, a single hand pressing down against the bed by his side to give himself stability.

Christoph watches the other man's face, admiring the way he furrows his brow, how he clenches his jaw, with his lips slightly agape, his cheeks red. Till's eyes are downcast, watching himself as he grips his thick cock and rubs the pink head down against Christoph's taint, to his slick hole. Christoph gasps sharply and earns a glance from heated eyes.

“Oh, _God,_ please,” Christoph begs, his eyes narrowing and mouth twisting into a grimace, “Till, please, hurry and fuck me. I can't take it anymore.”

“I'm right here,” Till murmurs, staring deeply into his desperate eyes as he begins to slowly force his cock inside of him with a tight hand. Christoph jerks his head back with a louder, sharper gasp, his collar jingling. He looks up at Till with wide eyes, his pretty lips agape and cheeks flushed a dark pink. Till's broad hand releases the grip on his cock to instead cup around Christoph's ass, digging his blunt nails in and holding him still as he gradually pushes inside.

“Fuck,” Christoph breathes, his eyes rolling shut. He swallows hard and then murmurs almost drunkenly, “Fuck yes, just like that, Till.”

Till brings his hand up from the bed to press it flatly against Christoph's chest, fingers splayed over his sweaty skin. With a firm rock of his hips, he shoves the remainder of his thick cock into his body, earning a deep moan from the other man. Christoph rolls his back like a sated cat, his hands limp against the pillows, his legs trembling around the other man. Till continues grasping his ass in a firm hand as he remains seated inside of him, his chest heaving and lidded eyes trained down on Christoph's pleasure-stricken face.

“Move, please,” Christoph whines, cracking his eyes open to look up at Till with a plea, “Fuck me, please, I want you, Till—“

Before he could ramble on further, Till runs his hand up from his heaving chest to grasp his slick jaw in a hand, hooking two fingers into his mouth and around his teeth. Christoph moans wantonly around them and immediately pushes at them with his tongue, though in a way that doesn't suggest objection. Drawing his hips back, Till slowly withdraws, his mouth slightly agape and lustful eyes trained on Christoph. Christoph's freckled face is weak and submissive, his eyes barely open, his thin lips open and willing for Till's fingers.

Letting out a shuddering breath, Till then snaps his hips against him, driving his cock into his pliant body with a jarring jerk of their bodies. Christoph cries out sharply, his eyes squeezing shut. Till does it again, twice more, with hard, abrupt shoves of his pelvis against Christoph's ass. It draws piercing cries out of the other man, joined by creaks of protest from the bed frame, as well as the noisy connection of their bodies.

“Like this, baby?” Till breathes, watching his face twist with agony as he begins to jerk his hips against him in a continuous motion, so roughly it jostles both them and the bed. Christoph moans aloud with each one. With his teeth locked around Till's fingers, he begins biting down so hard that Till ends up withdrawing them from his mouth. Instead, he cups that spit-slick hand around his throat, against the collar, pinning his head down to the pillows. Christoph looks up at him with widened eyes, his mouth agape and cheeks a dark, ruddy color.

Droplets of sweat run down Till's back and forehead as he continues snapping his hips against the other man, shoving his body forward purely from the force of it. The sound of the bed hitting against the wall is accompanied by Christoph's moans. He clutches tight fistfuls of the pillows by his restrained hands, his entire body clenched up and shaking uncontrollably.

“Harder,” he pleas sharply, his eyes rolling shut, voice breathless and raw, “Harder, Till, please!”

With one hand grasping Christoph's throat, Till curls the other around his side. Till holds his body as he attempts to meet his demands by thrusting into him with greater force, his thighs clenching and aching from the strain. Breathing heavily with a furrowed brow and a squared jaw, he watches Christoph's grimacing face as he fucks him with rough, almost violent snaps of his hips, prompting a sharp cry from him with each one.

Christoph wrapping his muscular legs around him and digging the heels of his feet into his ass has Till grunting. He squeezes them around him so tightly, Till nearly collapses on top of him, though he manages to plant his hand against the bed to prevent that. Christoph's entire body is locked up, his back arched, his hands in shaking fists, his teeth bared and eyes clenched shut. Feeling his insides squeeze around him has Till groaning, his thrusting becoming shaky.

“I'm—I'm coming,” Christoph gasps sharply then, his mouth falling open. Till watches his face as he continues snapping his hips against his ass, his own belly twisting and turning with an incredible heat. It only intensifies as Christoph practically yells, his head thrown back underneath Till's grip, wrists reflexively tugging against the restraints. Till feels the muscle in his legs clench against his sides and ass.

The jets of cum that shoot out from his abused cock are so forceful they connect with Till's forearm and Christoph's cheek—considering he is gradually becoming bent in half, this doesn't shock Till. Releasing his throat, Till instead cups his hands under his knees and gently unravels his legs from around him. Panting heavily, Christoph shudders and shakes underneath him, pliant and weak as Till pins his knees up to his chest. He continues fucking him, but with gentler thrusts. A firm rolling of his hips that has Christoph moaning softly, carrying him through the aftershocks of his intense orgasm. He's still twitching and jerking weakly under Till, his eyes closed and face slack, hands limp by his head.

“Good boy,” Till growls, lidded eyes trained on Christoph's beautiful flushed face, “You did so well. Do you want me to come in you, love? Do you want my seed?”

Cracking open his eyes, Christoph licks his thin lips and then nods dazedly. He glances down to watch Till pump his slick shaft into his body—the position gives him a generous view of that. Mouth falling open, Christoph's face twists with pleasure as he lets out a breathless, hoarse moan. Flicking his weak blue eye up to meet Till's, he nods again and breathes, “ _Yes_ , yes please. Give me your cum, Till. Please, fill me. I want to feel you come in me. I want to make you feel good. Please, keep fucking me...”

“I'm not going to stop,” Till murmurs in a thick, husky voice, his green eyes intense with lust. While he continues rocking against the smaller man, he squeezes his hands around his knees, his chest heaving and skin dotted with sweat. Christoph drops his gaze from Till's to watch his cock repeatedly disappear into his ass, his shaft slick with lube and flushed a deep red from his upcoming orgasm. And then Till growls, a deep, guttural rumble, before he murmurs roughly, his eyes lidded and trained on Christoph's pleasured face, “I'm going to fill you now. You're going to be dripping with my cum.”

“Yes!” Christoph moans, looking up at him with passionate want as he jerks his hands against the restrains again, desperate to touch him. Till lets his legs slip from his hands to instead lean in against Christoph, with his arms propped against the bed on both sides of him. He pins him down with the weight of his body, turning his head to begin mouthing at his jaw. Christoph moans softly in approval, his eyes closing and mouth falling open. Till kisses his way across his cheek, to his lips. Christoph hums lowly into it, angling his head to deepen it. With fiery passion, he kisses the other man back with heavy, open-mouthed purses of his lips.

It doesn't last long; Till kisses him breathlessly for a moment, before he rests his forehead against Christoph's. Bringing his hands in, elbows against the bed, Till cups Christoph's sides. The energy behind his thrusts lessens to something slower and deeper, until he stills completely, pressed up against Christoph. Christoph watches Till's face through lidded eyes. The soft groan that emerges from deep within Till's throat, escaping from between full lips, turns him on—he loves hearing him moan, because of _him_. He wraps his legs around Till again, crossing his ankles to hold him as close as possible. Till angles his head to mouth heavily at his jaw and neck, his lips sloppy and weak against his skin.

“You are so good,” Till murmurs, his voice thick and breathless. Christoph squeezes his legs around him wordlessly. Till lays one last soft kiss against his neck and then draws back to meet his gaze. Christoph shyly looks away and shakes his wrists a little. Understanding, Till strokes his hands up from his sides to instead reach for one of his cuffed hands.

Quickly and without struggle, he gets both wrists free of restraints. Immediately, Christoph wraps his slender arms around the other man and buries his face into his neck. Till brings his arms around him in return and rolls them over onto their sides, his shaft slipping out of him. Christoph draws one leg over Till's while nuzzling as close as possible, soaking up his warmth and love. Till strokes a hand down the length of his back.

The feeling of being in his arms like this after such intense sex is simply therapeutic and heartwarming—he smiles against his skin, his heart fluttering. Till continues caressing his back in slow strokes of his hand, fingertips gentle and light as a feather as they trace his spine up and down. Christoph lets out a weak murmur of contentment and shifts ever closer, until they're aligned and their naked skin is connected completely. He melts in Till's embrace. Till kisses him on the head, nose in his short mohawk.

A minute later, as they lay there intimately, tangled and sweaty, Christoph clears his throat and speaks lowly, his voice now clear and coherent.

“You were right.”

Till rests his hand between Christoph's shoulder blades as he asks in a murmur, “How so?”

“I _am_ dripping,” Christoph muses quietly. Till pauses, and then chuckles. Bringing his hand up from his back, Till curls his fingers into his short mohawk, gripping it to gently crane his head back. Christoph allows it, his eyes lidded and trained up on Till's. Searching in Christoph's affectionate blue eye, Till smiles warmly. He leans in, head angled, to kiss him tenderly, lovingly.


	5. Schau Mir Zu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christoph lets Till watch him shower. As expected, Till doesn't keep his hands to himself once Christoph gets out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title translation: "Watch me"
> 
> This is a birthday fic for Layne!! Happy birthday bb I love you!!! I hope you have a wonderful birthday, as you so deserve ♡(.◜ω◝.)♡
> 
> This is a smutty continuation of [this fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13323252/chapters/30541560)!! And this did occur.

Now standing in the bathroom, Christoph feels only tension. Not necessarily an unpleasant tension. Simply just... Tension. Anticipation. Blood burns warmly in his face. He can feel it under his skin. He tries to keep his composure as he slips his thumbs into the waistbands of both his sweatpants and briefs, now wet with rainwater. They cling to his long legs as he eases them down, exposing more pale flesh to the hungry eyes of his silent lover. Christoph steps out of them and places the wet articles of clothing into the laundry hamper.

“Before you do anything more,” he hears Till say, lowly, earning a glance from him. Till sits on the closed toilet, leaning forward with his forearms propped against his knees, his green eyes trained on him, _studying_ him.

“Come here.”

Christoph watches him closely, his blue eye calm but lacking any wariness. He turns towards the other man and paces up to him. Till leans back and spreads his knees further apart for Christoph to stand between them. Till's consuming gaze lowers, panning across the naked form exposed only to him. Christoph anticipates eager touch from broad hands, but he is surprised.

Raising his hands, Till hovers them around Christoph's slender, muscular thighs, without touching. He gingerly, lightly runs the fingertips of his index and middle fingers up along pale flesh, decorated by birthmarks and goosebumps. Christoph watches with a hot face. Somehow, such a simple touch is more intimate, more exciting. Till doesn't look up at him—he watches himself slowly, delicately run those two fingertips up over his thigh, to reach his hip. There, he traces his protruding hip bone. It has a shiver running through Christoph's lower half.

Those fingers descend again, to sweep around to his inner thigh; Christoph reflexively places his feet further apart to grant him easier reach. Now with all four fingertips, Till strokes them down his cool skin, raised with goosebumps now born from both the chill of the rain and Till's electrifying touch. Till continues this descent of his fingertips, until he reaches his knee, where he curls his warm, rough fingers around the back of it. He gently rakes his nails over the sensitive skin there, while finally raising his gaze to peer up at Christoph's face. Christoph's knee twitches from the touch. Till grins. Blushing, Christoph presses his thin lips together and searches in Till's amused eyes.

Leaning in, Till lays a firm, lingering kiss to his soft abs; the gelled segments of his mohawk press against his skin. Christoph lets out a breath, comforted and weakened by the gesture. He reaches up to gently cup the back of Till's head, fingers threading amongst his mohawk, while Till kisses him lovingly over his belly a few more times.

Till's broad hands _squeeze_ around his thighs, while his gaze rolls back up to meet Christoph's. A weak smirk pulls across Till's full lips. His hands wander up to do the same to his ass; he gropes him hard enough that it nearly hurts. Christoph sucks in a breath through his teeth, his hand stroking down from the back of Till's head to rest over his shoulder.

“Now go take your shower, beautiful,” Till murmurs with a slight grin, an amused glint in his eyes. Christoph subtly rolls _his_ eyes as he turns away from the other man to approach the shower, though not subtly enough. Having noticed it, Till chuckles as Christoph slides open the glass shower door with a rattle. Face and belly warm with both embarrassment and quiet arousal, Christoph steps inside and decides to leave the door open for the sake of Till's view—otherwise, the steam would conceal any worthwhile sight. The spray of the shower head is too concentrated to create any sort of mess on the floor, anyways. Not that it would matter.

Turning on the water, he holds his hand under the downfall to test the temperature. When it's a suitable warmth, he submerges himself and turns his face up towards the hot water. It feels good, rushing down over his chilled flesh, contrasting sharply with how cold he had been. A slight hum of pleasure emerges from him as he drowns in the feeling of it washing over his body. Thoroughly relaxed now, Christoph runs his hands down over his face and then glances towards Till beyond the open shower door. Till is seated, leaning forward again with his forearms against his knees, hands loosely linked together. His eyes are trained on him, admiring him. There's no expression on his face, though when he catches Christoph's gaze, the slightest smile tugs at his full lips.

Christoph averts his eyes and lets out a breath. He's never been watched like this before. And he doesn't feel particularly sexy or appealing, so if anything, he feels uncertain. But he knows how to shower. So, he'll just do what he usually does. He reaches for his body wash and bath sponge which had both obtained their own rightful place in Till's apartment. He doesn't really need to _clean_ himself, he just wanted to warm up from the rain, but he supposes he'll give Till something more.

The water beats against his skin and the floor of the tub noisily, filling the bathroom with sound that negates the silence. Christoph manages to busy himself with the task of washing his body, his nervousness ebbing away now that he's distracted. He steps out from under the spray of the water to scrub the soapy sponge over his chest, his arms, his belly, his thighs, his back. Suds of his scented body wash traverse down along his pale skin. He steps under the water to wash it all away, and then placing the sponge aside, Christoph squeezes a dollop into his palm.

With his back to the spray, Christoph rubs his hands together until they're soapy and reaches down to gently rub them over his soft shaft and balls. A heat rises to his face as he washes himself between his thighs, his eyes downcast and lips pressed together. Then he turns to the water and closes his eyes. He lets the hot spray wash down over his face and his front—he pushes his embarrassment away and wills himself to relax.

For a minute longer, Christoph simply stands under the steaming water and lets tension melt away. He feels content and pliable, warmed by the water in a place of comfort. In the back of his mind, he knows he's just letting Till stare for a little longer, though soon enough that discomfort begins to crawl back up, so he reaches out to turn off the water with finality. He glances towards Till, and then pauses. Till is missing. Furrowing his brow, Christoph sticks his head out of the shower and looks towards the bathroom door; it's open.

Silent and confused, Christoph steps out onto the mat and grabs a towel from the handrail on the outside of the shower. He rubs it over his face, arms, legs, and chest before winding it around his waist and tying it. Running a hand up over his wet mohawk, Christoph steps out of the bathroom, reentering Till’s bedroom to find said man seated on the foot of his bed. He has his arms loosely crossed.

“I was anticipating for you to corner me as soon as I got out,” Christoph states with a schooled expression as he paces across the carpet to reach the other man, crossing his arms as well. Till looks up at him with a slight smile on his face, his eyes calm and amused. He nods and then unravels his arms to gesture for Christoph to come closer with a curl of two fingers. He then points down at his thigh.

“Sit right here,” Till remarks, watching the smaller man with command in his gaze. Christoph stares at Till’s lap, an unreadable look in his blue eye. Then he glances up to meet his stare, saying nothing. He uncrosses his arms as he steps closer, until he’s standing between Till’s knees. Till doesn’t touch him, he only gazes up at him with patience and a slight smile. Christoph feels heat rise into his cheeks. He doesn’t portray any emotion on his face as he moves to sit on Till’s thighs; his towel barely hangs on as he tucks his folded legs against the outside of Till’s thighs while settling down. His hands rest on his own bare thighs. He looks at Till challengingly, with a stony look on his face. Till’s slight smirk extends into a grin, bearing a sliver of teeth as he gently sets his broad, calloused hands on Christoph’s muscular thighs, as well.

“What’s my reward for obeying you, sir?” Christoph mutters, mockingly—faint amusement blooms in his blue eye. Till chuckles and strokes his rough hands up over the dotted, milky pale skin of his thighs, across light body hair. He brushes aside Christoph’s hands to claim the entirety of his thighs to his own touch. He squeezes his muscular thighs and hums, thoughtfully. Christoph is becoming aroused; he represses it from showing on his slender face. Till runs his fingers up under the towel, to stroke over his protruding hip bones with delicate fingertips.

“What would you like as a reward?” Till says with a mischievous look in his vibrant green eyes, while casually refastening the towel tighter around his waist—doing exactly the opposite of what Christoph anticipated. Christoph searches in his gaze as he contemplates that. Well, he would like to dry off completely, admittedly, because water gradually running down his temple and the back of his neck due to his wet mohawk isn’t exactly pleasant. But that isn’t sexy, and it seems like Till wants to keep the towel around his waist. So he just looks down towards Till’s lips and says, “A kiss.”

“I can arrange that,” Till remarks with a grin. Christoph presses his lips together to restrain his smile. Till reaches up to gently wipe away the line of water that ran along his sharp cheekbone. Then he cups the side of his head, thumb resting over his cheek, and leans in to kiss him. Christoph rolls his eyes shut and lifts a hand to rest it on Till’s forearm, fingers curling into the muscle. Till’s lips, as always, are so warm, and so full. They’re soft and loving against his, pursing firmly but gently against his mouth. Christoph appreciates the chasteness of it. The kiss remains close-lipped, slow, passionate. A back and forth overlapping of their lips that has Christoph’s insides turning and twisting with a heat, with arousal, with satisfaction. Only when Till bites his bottom lip between his teeth, hard enough to hurt, does Christoph make a sound.

Till draws back to look at him with a slight smile as he brings his hand down from his cheek to curl it around his throat. With red cheeks and widened eyes, Christoph gazes at him, breath held. Till squeezes his grip around his throat, his eyes becoming deep and dangerous as he says lowly, almost a purr, “I want to consume you. You’re my pretty boy, Christoph.”

A ripple runs through Christoph’s body. Heart racing and face burning with blood, he closes his eyes and focuses on the feeling of Till’s strong, calloused hand closed around his throat, straining his breathing. Christoph makes a slight noise and reopens his eyes when Till’s hand slips underneath the towel to grip his hard cock. Christoph searches in Till’s lustful gaze, his lips falling open. The feeling of Till’s rough hand squeezing around his shaft has him tensing up in anticipation.

Till continues watching his slender face as he begins stroking him in a fist, slow and unsatisfying at first. Christoph winces slightly; he has callouses and they don’t feel very nice against his sensitive skin. Till must have realized, for he removes his hand and instead curls both arms around Christoph’s back to support his weight as he lifts him up and practically drops him down atop the bed. Christoph nearly laughs, though he manages to hold it back; it shows on his face regardless. Till notices, grinning, and moves to crawl over him. Christoph is soon given the marvelous view of Till’s muscular chest and belly, covered in dark hair, when the other man reaches for his nightstand to grab the lube off the surface.

Christoph contemplates rising to kiss his chest, but Till draws back before he could. Till doesn’t waste time. He rips open the towel around Christoph’s waist and squeezes a line of slick lube up along Christoph’s shaft. Christoph barely has time to readjust himself on the bed before Till grips him again. It is _much_ better with the lube. A weak moan crawls from Christoph’s agape mouth as he props up on an elbow, his blue eye lowering to watch Till’s broad hand stroking over his stiff cock.

“I should have expected this,” Christoph says, a bit breathlessly, as Till shifts closer, kneeling over Christoph’s leg. Till says nothing, he just smiles and runs his other hand up over his muscular thigh. He brings that hand in-between his thighs to cup and squeeze his balls in his hot fingers. Christoph lets out a shaky exhale and glances up towards Till’s face. His scarred cheeks are flushed, his eyes are downcast, his lips in a slight smile. His mohawk is disheveled, slightly, from their previous fucking half an hour before. Till’s beautiful green eyes flick up to meet his. Christoph searches in them, flustered.

Moving off of him, Till shifts closer and leans in to kiss him lovingly over his abs, his belly, his heaving ribcage. While pulling languidly at his cock, Till presses his warm lips over his chest, and then back down over his belly. Christoph hums softly, appreciatively. The nice, heated pleasure of Till’s broad hand moving over his shaft joined by the sensation of his lips against his skin is a lovely combination. It has Christoph melting back against the bed and pressing a hand over his eyes. He feels Till begin to gently bite at his pale flesh, over his hips and sides, while pumping his fist on his flushed cock, the slick sound of doing so joining Christoph’s soft panting and occasional moan of pleasure.

Twisting onto his side, Christoph abruptly turns towards Till and brings his arm around him. He rests his cheek against Till’s chest. His skin is hot against his face—his chest hair tickles his skin. Till laughs softly and says, “This is a bad angle for my hand, love.”

“Then you can stop. I would rather you hold me, for now,” Christoph mumbles, embarrassed. Till pauses, and then huffs another laugh. He lets his wet shaft go and runs his slick hand up over his hip, across his lower back, along the slope of his spine. The ascent of his broad hand is slow and intimate, his touch warm and loving. Christoph releases a shaky exhale against Till’s skin. Till locks his muscular arm around Christoph’s back and tugs him closer, until their legs tangle and their bodies meet, completely. Considering Till is wearing only his briefs, Christoph can feel his stiff hard-on against his midsection.

Emboldened, Christoph turns his head to begin kissing over Till’s chest, while running one broad hand up over Till’s muscular thigh, across his briefs, to grope him through the fabric. He traces the outline of his thick cock and then grips the shaft in his long fingers. Till rumbles; Christoph feels it vibrate against his lips. He runs the palm of his hand against it and rubs his thumb over the swell of the head, before his hand rises to stroke across Till’s belly. Till tightens his arms around him and simply holds him.

They lay like this, tangled together, with Till’s broad hand running over the length of Christoph’s back. Only when he’s satisfied with cuddling does Till gently roll Christoph onto his back, earning a calm glance from a blue eye. Glancing down, Till sees he is still hard, though not as much. Till plants a loving kiss against Christoph’s lips, which the other man briefly returns, before he leans in over his slender body to reach his lower half. Cupping his hands around Christoph’s thighs, Till takes his hard cock into his mouth, between his full lips. Christoph clenches up and sucks in a breath. Till lets it slide deeply into his throat, until his lips meet the base of his cock—he furrows his brow and focuses on repressing his gag reflex. Christoph moans.

Till begins to suck him off with gradual back and forths of his mouth, his cheeks sucked in and lips kept tight around his shaft. As he strokes his hands over Christoph’s flexing thighs, Till takes him into his mouth entirely again, which earns another gasped moan from the younger man. This time, Till does choke slightly, so he withdraws until just the head is in his mouth. Bringing a hand in from his thigh, Till grips his cock and pulls down to draw back his foreskin—then he begins rubbing his tongue along the frenulum of the head, against the intense nerves that has Christoph’s knees lurching up. Reflexively, Christoph grabs Till’s thigh, nails digging in, and shakily moans. Till alternates between sucking firmly at the cute pink head of his cock and rolling his tongue against the underside, until Christoph is quivering and gasping out, “Till!”

As Till takes his slender cock back into his mouth, to ultimately suck it into his throat, Christoph moans his name again, a deep, rumbling groan of his name which turns Till on. He notices Christoph’s thighs begin to shake. Then, abruptly, Christoph’s hot cum floods his mouth. Till draws back until just the head is kept between his lips; he begins to jerk Christoph off while sucking. Christoph whimpers, actually _whimpers¸_ and if it weren’t for his mouth being full, Till would’ve grinned. He squeezes Christoph’s muscular thigh in a hand while easing out the remainder of his seed into his mouth with slow pulls of his fist. Christoph moans breathlessly.

Till lifts his head if only to swallow his cum; then he kisses over his heaving tummy, his thigh, while languidly stroking at his slick shaft. Christoph running his hand over Till’s thigh has him finally letting go. He moves off of him to lay beside him, a smirk gracing his face. Christoph looks at him with a flushed face and hazy eyes. Till props up on an elbow and leans in to kiss him. Christoph immediately reaches up to clutch at the back of his head, pulling him closer.

Their lips move together in a passionate back and forth, a kiss encouraged by lust. Till dips his tongue into Christoph’s mouth to share the taste of him. Christoph hums into the kiss and then gives a final purse of his lips against Till’s before pulling back. He asks lowly while searching in his eyes, “Do you want to fuck me?”

“Yes,” Till murmurs roughly, eagerly. Christoph smiles bashfully and then kisses him once more on the lips before rising. While Christoph gets comfortable on his belly, clutching a pillow to his chest, Till gets up, steps out of his briefs to reveal his hard cock, and then grabs the lube again. Squeezing a bit into his palm, Till moves to kneel back on the bed while he strokes the lube over his shaft, the noise loud and vulgar. Christoph watches silently from over his shoulder as Till gets situated between his legs. Running his slick fingers down between his asscheeks, Till rubs the remainder of the lubricant onto Christoph and then shifts closer.

Curling his broad hands around the middle of Christoph’s back, Till sufficiently pins him down with his weight as he grunts, “Guide it in.”

Christoph pauses, flustered, and then reaches down between his spread thighs to grip Till’s cock; it’s extremely hard and hot in his grasp. Watching Till’s face past his shoulder, Christoph rubs the head against himself and then aligns it with a firm fist holding it in place. Till has his gaze downcast, watching as he carefully pushes in, slowly. Even if they fucked only half an hour ago, Till is still rather big and has Christoph clenching his toes with grit teeth. He’s still sore from the last round, too.

Till grunts from above him and carefully sinks in all the way—Christoph cups his balls in his hand when they come in contact with his fingers. Till lets out a shaky breath and finally looks up towards Christoph’s face; Christoph gives him a faint smile, his eyes still weak and hazy from his previous orgasm. Till places his hands on the bed and uses the leverage to lean in and kiss him on the forehead. Christoph’s heart flutters.

Silently, he slides his feet in to knock them against Till’s legs. He rests his cheek against the pillows and closes his eyes, an indication for Till to begin moving. Which he does; Till pulls out and sinks back in, slowly. Christoph lets out a slight noise into the pillow, his mouth falling open. Till cups his hands around Christoph’s back again and holds his smaller body still as he repeatedly rocks his hips against him. Christoph idly strokes at his own cock with a lazy hand, though he had an orgasm too recently to regain an erection. So instead he brings his hand further down to cup Till’s balls whenever they meet his fingers. Till seems to like that. He grunts and says lowly, “Good boy.”

That embarrasses Christoph. He blushes and hides his face in the pillows—but he doesn’t stop. Neither does Till; he begins fucking him with more force, his broad hands squeezing around Christoph’s sides. Christoph moans weakly into the pillows. Till leans forward then, to lay himself atop the other man, his arms wrapping around his chest—his hand raises to close loosely around his throat. Christoph moans again; Till is big and warm on top of him, pinning him down entirely as he rolls his hips against him. It’s arousing and comforting, simultaneously.

Till begins kissing over his shoulder and neck, occasionally nipping his skin between his teeth. Christoph shudders. He melts underneath Till, his belly coiling with pleasure. Till then lets him go, rising to once again pin him down with his hands around his back. Christoph brings his hand down to begin touching himself; it’s so sensitive to a point he can barely withstand it, but the pleasure outweighs the discomfort. He begins to moan more openly as Till starts fucking him with sharp bucks of his hips, driving his cock into his body with more enthusiasm.

“Till, oh, God,” Christoph moans, nearly a slur, which only serves to encourage the other man. Till grunts and bears his weight into him as he pounds into him with almost violent thrusts, while clutching handfuls of his back in his hands, his nails digging into his flesh. Christoph cries out and strokes at himself shakily, his entire body locking up. The bed creaks in protest and the connection of their bodies only contributes to the noise.

“Do you want me to come in you?” Till asks breathlessly, continuing to fuck the other man with no reprieve. Christoph can barely produce thought, much less a response. He moans mindlessly into the pillows, his hand faltering on his sensitive cock. He swallows hard, regains his composure, and then decides he’s already dealt with an upset stomach today. Shakily, he blurts out, “No, o-on my back.”

Suddenly, Till is ripping his cock out from inside him and begins feverishly stroking at himself with a grunt escaping from between clenched teeth. Looking over his shoulder, Christoph watches with lust in his eye as the other man jerks himself off. Admiring the sight of his big hand tugging at his cock has Christoph doing the same to himself, though at a more languid pace. Soon enough, Till is groaning and gasping as he squeezes his hand around the base, his shaft flushed and slick with lube. Lidded eyes trained on Till’s handsome, pleasured face, Christoph shudders as his ropes of cum shoot out to land in long, warm stripes up along his back. It turns Christoph on. He watches his thick cock flex—weaker lines of semen drip out to run over Till’s big fingers.

Panting heavily, Till eases out the remainder with slow pulls of his hand, letting it drip down onto Christoph’s lower back and ass. Then he releases a deep exhale, taking his hand away from himself. He grabs the previously discarded towel to wipe away the cum from his hands, and then Christoph’s back.

“Now I’ll have to take another shower,” Christoph murmurs jokingly as he turns himself to rest comfortably against the pillows. Till chucks the soiled towel towards the laundry hamper. He looks at Christoph with a slight smile on his face. He moves to lay beside him, jostling the bed slightly as he gets adjusted. He reaches out to wrap a muscular arm around the smaller man. He pulls him closer while saying, “If you do, I’ll be joining you this time.”

“I won’t argue,” Christoph remarks, smiling faintly himself. Till searches in his blue eye and then leans in to kiss him tenderly on the temple.


	6. Kleide Mich

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As previously suggested by Till, Christoph relents and wears women's lingerie for Till's enjoyment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title translation: "Dress me" (Thanks Lily ♡)
> 
> This is a commission work for the lovely Lou ;o; Thank you SO much bb I hope you like it ♡
> 
> Er, if we're applying this to the AU, this did not happen. Just an indulgent scenario hehehe and [this](https://78.media.tumblr.com/4b6b3c66934b2b589960e804edf5ad5f/tumblr_p7uheynxm71rvajymo1_1280.jpg) is the lingerie Christoph wears!

“Happy birthday,” a deep voice proclaims from behind him. And then a rectangular box with elegant beige wrapping and a ribbon is placed before him, onto the desk Christoph currently sits at. Pen pausing against paper, Christoph stares at the box with confusion, and then up at Till’s smirking face.

“You’re early by four months,” he states, setting his pen down. Till’s smirk becomes a slight smile. He pushes the box forward and muses, “Am I?”

Christoph eyes the other man distrustfully as he reaches for the gift. He grabs it and then admires the wrapping; it’s pretty. But insignificant. Christoph tears it off, exposing the white box underneath. He removes the lid. Vibrant red is revealed, a telltale sign. Christoph is beginning to suspect what this is. He sets the box down and reaches in to raise the article of clothing—it’s made of nylon and lace. It’s sleek and soft. There are four straps which hang down from it. This must be a garter belt.

Without a word, Christoph sets it down and then reaches back into the box to remove what is most definitely a pair of ruby, lacy panties. The crotch fabric is nylon, and the waistband is lace. Straight faced with warming cheeks, Christoph sets aside the panties and then gently retrieves the folded stockings from the box. They’re a matching red, with lace at the top. He quietly folds every piece and sets them back into the box. He looks up at Till. He remains speechless. He’s not sure what to say.

“Like we talked about,” Till says, arching a brow, “But if you’ve changed your mind…”

“No,” Christoph replies with a sigh, dropping his gaze to the lingerie again. He presses his lips together and then says quietly, “No, I would still… Like to. I’ve just never done anything like this before.”

Meeting Till’s hopeful gaze again, Christoph manages the slightest smile and says, “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

Till returns the smile and leans in to press a sweet kiss to Christoph’s forehead, cupping his hand around the back of his neck. Christoph’s blush intensifies. Till pulls back and his smile widens, seeing that look on his face.

“Tonight?” he asks, with optimism and a grin. Christoph drops his gaze to check his watch. He lets out a long breath and then says, meeting Till’s gaze, “It’s too late. I have to finish this paperwork and then make a phone call. Tomorrow.”

Till’s grin softens to a smile. He nods and leans in to press another kiss to Christoph’s face, this time against his cheekbone. Christoph waves him off, blushing, which has the other man chuckling. Till squeezes the back of his neck affectionately and then says, “Alright. Tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

Like with most days, _tomorrow_ becomes _today._ Throughout the span of the morning and afternoon, the knowledge of what’s to come plagues Christoph’s thoughts as the workday progresses. While hardly focused on the process of reviewing certain paperwork, it’s on his mind. After dealing with a delivery of illegally transported medicine, Christoph is left flustered, picturing the upcoming evening as he drives back to the office. At said office upon his return, he’s bombarded by phone calls, which manage to keep him distracted for the next hour.

Eventually, the workday does come to an end. The six of their group all say goodnights and depart their separate ways. Unbeknownst to the others, Christoph follows Till in his car with Till’s apartment being the final destination, and unbeknownst to _them,_  Richard and Paul plan to spend the night together, as well. Meanwhile, Oliver has his girlfriend to return to, and Flake has his family waiting for him at home.

When they do arrive at Till’s towering apartment building, a building surrounded with the busyness of the city, Christoph pulls into a parking space, turns off his car, and climbs out. Watching Till from across the parking lot, Christoph slams his door shut and then begins pacing out to join him. Till emerges at a slower pace; he has to grab his cane from the passenger side, set it on the pavement, and hoist himself up and out of the car. Then he grabs a folder from the dashboard. As Christoph joins him at his car, he’s locking up. Till turns to him and smiles. Christoph’s thin lips perk up, ever so slightly, and then Till is gently, teasingly knocking the grip of his cane against Christoph’s arm.

“Come on,” he says, and then begins towards the front doors.

 

The elevator ride to Till’s floor is slightly tense. Christoph has a feeling Till might say or do something to rile him up, but thankfully, on the next floor, a woman steps on. The ride is silent the rest of the way, and then they arrive. Till throws Christoph a look before they pace out. Christoph removes his keys from his pocket as he begins towards the direction of Till’s flat. His nervousness distracts him from his politeness; he leaves Till behind, just a little bit. At his door, Christoph takes out his own key to Till’s place and unlocks it. He pushes the door open and waits for the other man, who approaches with the ever-present slight limp and slower pace. Once at his side, Till jokingly pants heavily, wheezing, and lethargically props his shoulder against the doorframe, which has Christoph shaking his head and chuckling. Till grins, pleased with his ability to make the other man laugh.

They both pace in, and then Christoph shuts and locks the door. After removing his shoes, Till steps into the living room and tosses his cane and the folder he held onto the couch, before checking his watch. Christoph silently puts their shoes into the cabinet by the door.

“Shall we eat first? Are you hungry at all, Christoph?” Till asks as he begins towards the kitchen, now free of his cane. His brace clicks along the way. Christoph follows the other man, saying, “Not particularly. But I wouldn’t mind having a drink.”

Till pauses and looks back at Christoph with alarm.

“You want a drink? Really?”

Christoph crosses his arms and shrugs.

“Wearing lingerie is not something I often do. I need confidence.”

Till smiles slightly with understanding. He nods and then continues into the kitchen to pull open the fridge door. Christoph watches, hip propped against the counter with crossed arms, as Till grabs a yogurt and an apple. Clearing his throat, Till asks while digging a spoon out of the utensil drawer, “Anything in particular you’d like? I only have whiskey, gin, beer, and tequila, but we can go out and get something else, if need be.”

“Tequila is fine,” Christoph says quietly, watching Till rip the lid off his yogurt; he has never tried tequila, though he _does_ know he does _not_ like whiskey, beer, _or_ gin. Till nods and then with his snack in hand, he paces past the other man to collapse into the recliner in the living room. Naturally following him, Christoph smiles faintly, amused with the sight of Till taking a big chomp out of his apple. Then he paces through the living room to enter Till’s bedroom. There, he changes into something more leisurely. He supposes he’ll take a shower to rid himself of the discomfort of the work day.

 

After a shower, Christoph emerges from the bathroom redressed in his shirt and fitted sweatpants to find Till missing from the living room. He finishes rubbing a towel over his mohawk and tosses it back into the bathroom, which narrowly makes it into the laundry hamper. He hears irritated cursing coming from the bedroom. Approaching the ajar door, he peeks in to see Till struggling with his knee brace, an expression of annoyance on his face. He’s shirtless, now lacking the black blazer and white button-up. Christoph is well-aware of Till’s stubbornness and pride when it comes to accepting help.

So, Christoph just quietly retreats and reenters the kitchen to find the mentioned tequila. At the liquor cabinet beside the dining table, Christoph pulls it open and scans each bottle to find the one which blatantly states it is, in fact, tequila. On the label, it says “añejo”. The bottle is rectangular shaped; the alcohol itself has a warm color. He reaches in to grab it.

At the counter, he places the bottle down with a clink and then reaches up to open Till’s kitchen cabinets. He grabs two drinking glasses and sets them down on the counter.

Christoph is ignorant when it comes to alcoholic beverages, due to his utter disinterest in drinking, so he is not sure if tequila is a drink that asks for ice. He decides to wait for Till’s return by leaning against the counter and crossing his arms.

Three minutes later, which consisted of Christoph staring into the abyss, deep in thought, Till emerges from the bedroom and crosses through the living room, indicated by the creaking of the floorboards. The other man limps into the kitchen and notices Christoph. And then the tequila. He smiles faintly and approaches to stand beside him. For stability, he sets his hand on the counter and grabs the tequila.

“I didn’t know if it came with ice,” Christoph states, watching the other man twist the cap off. Till pours some into each glass.

“It really doesn’t matter, but I drink it without,” he says, screwing the cap back on before setting the bottle down soundly. He peeks over at Christoph, tequila glass in hand. Hesitantly taking his own in his grasp, Christoph looks down into the honey colored liquor. Then he meets Till’s gaze. Till grins slightly and teasingly says, “Cheers.”

Christoph manages a slight smile as the other man taps their glasses together. Then Till takes a drink—he doesn’t swallow it immediately, he lets it seep on his palate to completely absorb the taste. It has him pursing his lips with a slight furrow of his brow, his green eyes training on Christoph. Christoph takes a sip and then makes a puckered face. Till laughs aloud.

“Do you even like anything?” he teases, reaching out to nudge him on the bicep. Christoph shakes his head and then takes another drink. Till grabs the bottle and states, “Let’s move to the couch.”

Christoph silently nods and follows the other man out to the living room.

When seated together, Till downs the remainder of his drink and refills the glass. Christoph forces himself to do the same, with distaste blooming on his slender face. Till smiles faintly to himself, gazing at the other man with a certain tenderness in his green eyes. Christoph, unaware of Till’s staring, eyes the warm-colored alcohol sitting in his glass. So far, the only two alcoholic drinks he _does_ like have been vodka mixtures, and champagne. Tequila isn’t as bad as whiskey or beer, but it’s too much for him.

“What do you think?” Till asks with a slight smirk growing on his face. Christoph glances at him, searches in his amused eyes, and then drops his gaze back to his tequila.

“It’s strong in taste, unpleasantly so. But it’ll serve its purpose: getting me drunk.”

Till chuckles and nods, saying lowly, “It definitely will. I’m sure you’re more vulnerable to its effects due to your body being untrained with alcohol.”

Nodding slightly, Christoph then calmly downs the remainder of his first glass and reaches for the bottle.

 

* * *

 

As predicted, Christoph’s cognitions are dulled soon enough following three glasses, and he’s finding himself smiling easily. The drunker they both become, the touchier Till gets. He keeps one hand gripping Christoph’s thigh, breaking contact if only to refill his glass. Watching him with hazy eyes, Christoph can tell he’s becoming tipsy. Not necessarily drunk—just buzzed. And Till seems to deem that enough; after finishing this glass, he sets it down and says with a lazy smile, “I think that should do it. Don’t want you stumbling around in that get-up.”

Christoph silently agrees with a faint, timid smile. Till grins, admiring that smile through lidded eyes. Then he leans in, head angled, to kiss him hungrily. Christoph rests his hand over Till’s atop his thigh and squeezes his fingers. Happily, Christoph returns the kiss with firm purses of his lips. Till seems eager for more; he begins mouthing at his lips with more enthusiasm. Christoph hasn’t quite reached that point yet—he plants one more kiss against Till’s warm, full lips and then draws back with a smile and a rare gentleness in his blue eye. The look on Till’s face suggests he didn’t want to stop, though he doesn’t complain. Grasping Till’s broad hand in his own, Christoph then rises from the couch, a bit unsteadily. Till gets up as well, letting the other man maintain the hold on his hand.

Without a word, Christoph pulls him out from between the couch and the coffee table, into the hallway, and ultimately into Till’s bedroom. Releasing his hand, Christoph points to the bed and says lowly, “Sit.”

Till huffs a laugh and does as he’s told. When he’s situated, he looks up at Christoph with amusement and says teasingly, “As you wish.”

“Give me a minute to… Change,” Christoph murmurs with embarrassment, ignoring his remark. Till’s expression shifts to something gentler. Smiling, he nods and says, “I’ll be right here.”

Nodding, Christoph approaches Till’s desk to grab the box of lingerie from the drawer. Then he takes his leave from the bedroom and shuts the door behind himself, his face warm and stomach twisting. He lets out a deep exhale as he paces through the hallway and into the bathroom. He’s a bit unsteady on his feet and has to regain his balance by running a hand along the wall; he’s a little drunk. There, he shuts the door and sets the box on the counter. Christoph rubs a hand down over his face and then crosses his arms.

Staring at the box, Christoph tries to come to terms with the fact he’s about to wear women’s lingerie, for his _boss._ The alcohol buzzing throughout his body and clouding his judgement lessens his hesitance. Not that he’s reluctant to do so out of discomfort, but solely because he’s never done anything like this before and he’s not sure how the evening will turn out. He doesn’t want to ruin this for Till.

The first step is putting it on, though. So, after stripping away his remaining hesitance, Christoph removes his shirt, followed by his sweatpants and underwear, leaving himself a blank canvas.

The easiest piece is the scarlet, lacy panties. They fit comfortably around his ass, though he has to adjust his junk in the crotch to something comfortable and visually appealing. This is very strange, but at least the fabric is soft and feels nice on his skin. He’s already burning up in the face as he grabs the sheer stockings. Considering his tipsy state, Christoph decides to take a seat on the closed toilet lid. From there, he begins pulling on the crimson stockings, slowly, with uncertainty.

He’s clumsy at first, and the fucking nylon keeps getting caught on his toes, and it’s _irritating,_ but eventually, he manages to draw it up to his mid-thigh. He smooths out the fabric and stares at his leg. It… Looks alright. He’s not sure how to feel about it. He just grabs the other stocking and goes through the drunken struggle to pull that one on his other leg, careful not to tear the delicate material.

Then comes the garter belt… Which is more of an enigma to him. Christoph eyes the article of lingerie and turns it around multiple times, trying to figure out which way is the front. Probably the side with the bow. He doesn’t see any kind of fastening strap, like a bra, so he assumes you just step into it. He lowers it and carefully dips his feet into the opening, before wiggling it up over his long legs. He has to squeeze it up past his thighs, but it manages to fit. He supposes Till would’ve been careful to make sure it fits.

It clings comfortably to his lower stomach. He runs his hands over the soft fabric and the red lace, silently awed by how charming it is. Not particularly on _him,_ but just the design itself. He clumsily attempts to attach the clasps to the stockings. He manages it after multiple tries, and then repeats the process with the other two clasps.

Now finished, Christoph lets out a breath and looks down at himself, rather dully. Still, he doesn’t have much of an opinion of it. He then steps in front of the mirror and gazes at himself. Staring at the sight of the garter belt hugging his belly, the lacy panties which grant him modesty, the stockings clinging to his long legs… It’s not half bad. He actually looks _almost_ charming. Maybe Till will like it more. For now, Christoph just feels strange.

And embarrassed.

With a deep breath, Christoph exits the bathroom, deciding to leave behind his previously discarded clothing, for now. Hands in fists by his sides, Christoph stiffly paces up towards the bedroom door, his heart pounding and stomach twisting. He’s starting to think the alcohol didn’t do much to relax his nerves. He’s beginning to regret this as he reaches for the doorknob. He pushes it open, just slightly, with a quiet creak of the hinges.

Peeking in, he sees Till seated there as he left him, with his arms crossed and patient eyes trained on the door. He smiles at the appearance of Christoph. Christoph looks down and mumbles, “Don’t get too excited.”

“Hey now, no need to downplay it,” Till says firmly with a grin, uncrossing his arms to turn his hand in a beckoning gesture, “Come on out, love. Let me see you.”

Christoph glances down at himself, still hidden behind the door, to make sure it’s all in order. It all looks fine, so after pressing his lips together, he timidly enters. He quietly shuts the door behind himself and stares at the floor with his hands curling into loose fists by his sides, his face alight with a fire. When the moment of silence stretches on longer than he anticipated, Christoph peeks up to see Till gazing upon his body with awe on his handsome face. He actually looks speechless. Somehow, that makes it worse. Christoph feels humiliated. He doesn’t deserve to be looked upon with reverence. He is tempted to just turn and leave, to redress into his typical clothing. This isn’t like him. He feels vulnerable.

“You look beautiful,” Till manages with a broad grin spreading across his face; it brings out his crow’s feet, lightens his green eyes with joy, and accentuates the lines around his mouth. Christoph stares—this time _he’s_ speechless. It’s rare he witnesses such a broad smile. He isn’t sure what to say. Christoph just crosses his arms across his chest, a gesture of uncertainty, which Till notices. His smile softens to something loving and understanding.

“Come here, Christoph,” he says, gently. The heat in Christoph’s face flares up; Till’s voice is low and coaxing. Christoph feels goosebumps bloom on his flesh. It calms his reluctance. Without a word, Christoph paces up to the bed to stand before the other man—his blue eye trains on Till’s. Till continues smiling, faintly. He drops his gaze from Christoph’s to let his eyes roam across his lower half, eating the sight up like eye candy. He raises his hands, slowly, with slight hesitance, before gingerly cupping them around Christoph’s thighs, over the nylon of the stockings. He strokes his thumbs against his skin through the fabric and sweeps his gaze up along his lover’s slender, muscular body to meet his calm blue eye again. Christoph lets out a shaky breath and speaks quietly, saying, “I hope you like it.”

“Of course I do. You look amazing,” Till replies with a grin, and then leans in to kiss him firmly on the belly, against soft abs. Christoph presses his lips together, blushing. Till pulls back to peer up at him, asking lowly, “Do _you_ like it?”

“I’m unsure,” Christoph begins, “But I’m not unbearably uncomfortable, and you like it, so I will wear it.”

Till searches his face, and then nods. He kisses him on the belly again, and then over the garter belt. His hands drift up from his thighs, to rest over his hips. He leans back again to admire the sight of him. He strokes his hands across the sleek, soft fabric of the lingerie, smiling faintly. Seeing Till enjoy it so greatly has _Christoph_ enjoying it. He relaxes a bit and uncrosses his arms to fold them behind his back, fingers linking. Till runs his broad hands around to cup his ass and squeeze; that has Christoph taking an unsteady step forward and reflexively raising his hands to clutch at Till’s shoulders. Till chuckles and leans in to resume his kissing—he mouths at his heaving tummy, kisses at his muscular thighs, and then reaches up to gently grasp Christoph by the wrist.

Blinking, Christoph lets him. Till clutches his hand in his, and then with his intense, smoldering eyes trained on Christoph’s, he brings it to his mouth and kisses at his knuckles firmly. Christoph’s stomach flips. He watches with a schooled expression, save for the slight opening of his mouth. Till smiles and does it again, over each of his fingers, against the back of his hand, over his wrist. Christoph feels warm all over, his eyes lidded and cheeks pink. Unbeknownst to him, the alcohol intensifies his lust and in result, blood rushes not only into his face, but down between his thighs, as well.

He shudders when Till kisses a trail up from his wrist, across his forearm. He then stands from the bed to meet his height. Searching in Christoph’s icy blue eye, Till cups his cheek with one hand, the other sliding back down to clutch his hand—he threads their fingers together. Christoph’s heart is in his throat. He can only stare at Till with a weakened gaze. Till smiles faintly and strokes his thumb over Christoph’s sharp cheekbone before he leans in to kiss him. Christoph closes his eyes and welcomes it gratefully.

In the quietness of Till’s bedroom, their moving lips are loud. The overlapping of their mouths is slow and deep, but not rushed. This time, Till kisses him with more patience and more passion. Christoph’s insides become warm and tingly, made up of a combination of love, lust, and alcohol. He begins to take shuddering inhales in-between the slow mashing of their lips. Till dips his tongue into his lips to taste his saliva and teeth, which only serves to fluster him more, until he can’t take it anymore—he feels like he’s about to melt.

Overwhelmed, he stops responding and lets Till kiss at his thin lips. Having noticed, Till breaks it to mouth fleetingly at Christoph’s strong jawline. Christoph turns his head lazily to allow easier reach. Till squeezes his fingers while he nips at his jaw, before he pulls back to meet his gaze. Christoph cracks his eyes open and looks dazedly into his beautiful jade eyes.

“Let me touch you, now,” Christoph murmurs, before Till could say anything. Till pauses, surprised—he hadn’t anticipated being on the receiving end of attention, surely. Christoph knows he must’ve planned to give _him_ all the body worship and appreciation. Till nods. Christoph gestures to the bed with a glance of his eye and then says, “Sit.”

Doing as told, Till takes a seat on the foot of the bed with a slight smirk on his face. He rests his hands against his thighs, palms facing up and open—a sarcastic gesture to encourage the other man. Christoph forces down the uncertainty and embarrassment suffocating him. He steps forward to stand between Till’s knees. Till grins, faintly. He swims his eyes up along his slender figure, admiring the lingerie decorating his pale, scarred skin.

Reaching up, Till cups his thighs and squeezes them, saying lowly in a growl with his gaze raising to meet Christoph’s, “You look incredibly sexy, and your legs are beautiful in the stockings. I could just eat you up.”

Saying nothing, Christoph just manages the slightest smile with a warm face. Till leans in to kiss him on the belly again. Christoph appreciates it, silently. Then he moves to kneel, between Till’s knees. Till looks at him with subtle amusement on his face. Christoph doesn’t meet his gaze as he reaches in to undo the button to his jeans and draw down the zipper. Till scoots closer to the edge of the bed and spreads his legs further apart to grant the other man easier accessibility. Only when Christoph reaches in to feel his stiffening shaft through his briefs does he glance up to meekly lock eyes with Till. Till is still smiling, even if subtly. Christoph supposes he’s really enjoying this.

He squeezes his cock through his briefs—he’s not quite hard yet, but he’s getting there. Shifting closer on his knees, Christoph brings his other hand up to curl his fingers into the waistband of his underwear. He pulls it down to hook it under Till’s balls, exposing the entirety of him to Christoph’s gaze.

Gripping his shaft, Christoph begins to pull at it slowly, experimentally. Till releases an exhale from above. Christoph, admittedly, thinks he has a gorgeous cock. He takes pleasure in admiring it. But his embarrassment, as usual, is preventing him from taking his time and doing so. Running his other hand over Till’s thigh, across his jeans, he drapes his arm around his hips as he leans in to take the head into his mouth, his fist tight around the base of his half-hard cock to keep it in place. He feels Till shift, leaning back with his hand propped against the bed to gain a better view of it.

Furrowing his brow, Christoph focuses on blowing him. With sucked in cheeks, he keeps only the head within the heat of his mouth while languidly stroking at him. Then he leans in, shoulders curling, to take more into his mouth—slowly at first, to avoid choking himself. Till is silent, though Christoph feels a touch from Till’s warm fingertips; he strokes over the shell of his ear, traces the muscle in his neck, strokes his broad hand down between his shoulder blades. Christoph is flustered and distracted by it.

Refocusing on the task _in_ hand, Christoph begins to move his head with more confidence. He takes Till into his mouth again and again, deeper and deeper with each bob of his head. Till grunts softly from above. Soon enough, he’s entirely hard. It makes it difficult for Christoph simply due to how _big_ he is when erect. He withdraws to suck at the head of his cock, while stroking his hand over the shaft, slickened by his saliva. With his eyes closed and brow furrowed, cheeks rouge and lips wet, Christoph is unaware of Till’s appreciative staring.

Opening his eyes, Christoph looks up to meet Till’s lustful gaze as he runs his tongue up across the sensitive underside of the head—Christoph notices Till’s jaw clench. It encourages Christoph to do it again. He alternates between sucking the head into his mouth, eyes closed, and then withdrawing to rub his tongue across the frenulum, against the concentration of nerves that has Till grunting. Licking at the slit of his cock, Christoph can taste the beading of pre-cum on his tongue.

Considering he’s having fun, Christoph doesn’t bother stopping. He watches Till’s face as he runs the width of his tongue up along the underside of his shaft, before sucking the dripping head into his mouth again. Fingers fixed tightly around the base of his cock, Christoph sucks firmly at the head, earning another grunt from his lover. He lets his stiff length slide deeper into his mouth with a lowering of his head. It takes effort to avoid choking and grazing it with his teeth.

Christoph only chokes and coughs a few times as he forces it down into his throat, spit dripping from his bottom lip. Till moans and reaches up to curl his fingers into Christoph’s mohawk. Christoph manages to hold it deep in his mouth without gagging; he tries moving his head back and forth to stimulate him more, though that only has him choking again. Till seems to like it either way. He moans lowly again, stroking his calloused hand down along Christoph’s neck, to rest over his shoulder blade.

“Good boy,” Till murmurs, his voice husky, “I love seeing you take my cock in your pretty mouth.”

Flustered, Christoph’s focus falters, and in result, it has him choking again. He swallows thickly around his cock and then withdraws slowly, his cheeks sucked in and lips kept tight around his shaft. Panting, he looks up at Till with watery eyes and a slight grimace on his face. Till chuckles and strokes his hand back and forth over his shoulder blade.

“I’m close,” Till says, curling his thumb and forefinger around his dick to angle it towards Christoph’s mouth, “Don’t stop now, love.”

Obediently, Christoph shifts closer and leans in to suck it in-between his sore lips again. He runs his hand up over Till’s belly to feel his warm skin as he nurses at the pink head of his cock. He curls his hand around his shaft to pull at it slowly. Till groans, a low rumble in his chest that sends a shiver down Christoph’s back. Christoph tastes another dollop of his pre-cum; he rubs his tongue against the slit to lick it up. It’s pungent in taste and turns him on. He enjoys knowing Till is so excited.

Christoph withdraws slowly, sucking tightly, to break off and then lick at the head again, his striking blue eye flicking up to meet Till’s. He pulls slowly at his cock while doing so, feeling his foreskin come in contact with his tongue when it closes around the head. With a clenched jaw and hungry eyes trained down on the other man, Till grunts and digs his blunt fingernails into Christoph’s back.

Angling his head, Christoph begins mouthing at his balls while stroking his flushed, wet cock in his fist. Till’s hand retreats from his back to curl around his neck, keeping him in place as he grunts again. Christoph watches his handsome face contort slightly with pleasure as he begins sucking on his balls—then he feels his cock flex in his hand. A moment later, two jets of cum shoot out to land across his jaw and ear.

Immediately, Christoph rises to suck the head into his mouth. Till grunts and squeezes his hand around the back of his neck. Till’s thick semen floods Christoph’s mouth as he nurses at it, while continuously pulling at his cock with a tight fist. It never seems to stop—Christoph is amazed by how much he’s letting out. It fills his mouth with continuous weak spurts, until the slit of his cock gradually stops leaking cum. Till groans again and shudders. Christoph roams his hand up from Till’s hairy stomach, stroking across tan skin and raised scars, to ultimately rest it on his heaving chest.

Christoph finally stops stroking at him and then sits back on his heels, looking up to meet his lustful gaze. Christoph never particularly _liked_ the taste and texture of semen, but he enjoys the _act_ of consuming Till’s seed far too much to spit it out. Though he could never say as much. Before he could swallow it though, Till leans forward, reaching out to grip his jaw in a firm hand. Christoph’s eyes widen. Till smiles and says, “Show me.”

Christoph tenses up, reluctant and embarrassed. But he aims to please the other man, so with a burning face, he opens his mouth—he doesn’t stick his tongue out, for fear of his cum spilling out. There’s a lot.

Till stares with hunger in his gaze. Christoph makes a slight noise when Till hooks his thumb into his mouth and rubs it over his tongue. Christoph closes his mouth around it and gently bites it between his teeth, a silent protest. Till chuckles and slides his thumb out. Christoph averts his gaze as he thickly swallows it down. Till watches, pleased. Then he tucks himself back into his underwear—leaving his jeans undone, for now.

When Till forces his foot between Christoph’s folded legs to nudge his thighs apart, Christoph pauses. Till leans in and peers down at his body. Christoph glances down to see his hard cock peeking out from the waistband of the crimson panties, pinned up against the garter belt. Looking up towards Till again, he sees him smiling faintly. Till’s pretty green eyes flick up to meet his. That smile stretches into a smirk.

“Well, we have to take care of that now, don’t we, Christoph?”

**Author's Note:**

> babypaulchen.tumblr.com


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